


Unsteady

by MrsRen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, HeadBoy, HeadGirl, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Post-War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-10 16:08:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 77,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12915420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsRen/pseuds/MrsRen
Summary: The Wizarding World of Great Britain had been ripped from its axis. Hermione Granger found herself suffering from the trauma and the guilt from her hand in the war, not recognizing who she has become. With her friendship in tatters, she feels utterly alone. In returning to Hogwarts, she finds the one individual who her demons play well with. Her fellow Head, Draco Malfoy.The Wizarding War is over, but Lucius Malfoy has barely begun.





	1. Chapter One

Eighth year. She rolled the words around in her head, trying to repeat them until they were real, concrete, set in stone. The last year had been anything but predictable as they fought their way through the war.

The only way out had been through.

She had told herself this during the war, during the terrifying night with Bellatrix Lestrange, and during the Battle of Hogwarts. But she hadn't expected to continue to repeat the secret mantra in the present tense after the war. From the moment McGonagall's letter came, she knew she was returning home.

Home had become tents with Harry as Ron left in his fit of insecurity. It was running for their lives, but at least her best friends with her. At the end of the generic acceptance letter, McGonagall had written: Hogwarts will always be here to welcome you home. Her heart surged when the boys decided to return alongside her. "Auror training will still be available next year, Hermione." Harry told her in the lazy sunlight of The Burrow's kitchen.

Ron, however, did not agree but he came anyways. For the wrong reasons, she told herself, but perhaps they could move past the elephant in the room.

Their new headmistress had owled her several times for two weeks, asking if she was sure she could return and accept the Head Girl position. Hermione Granger had not been herself since the end. If anything, she needed the normalcy. She needed to be back inside the castle's walls when they weren't crumbling around her. She needed to find exactly who she was after the the war. It wasn't who Ron fell in love with, he told her in that blasted fit of anger that tore straight through her defenses that hadn't been built for him.

She told him to leave again then. That she wouldn't hold him back from what he wanted in life, and she'd still support him. She wished she could just bloody forget Harry breaking up their fight. In seven years, she'd never expected such an outburst from Ron. It was all about her sixth year, and the end of fifth. How she'd gotten drunk at a party and had too much fun.

Hermione apparated on the spot to The Leaky Cauldron, paying for a room until the first day of the term. If she could have, she'd have returned to her childhood home. In that lied the other problem: Wendell and Monica Wilkins still didn't remember their lone daughter.

XXX

The scarlet Hogwarts Express made her sigh in relief. Finally. A month inside The Leaky Cauldron would drive anyone crazy. There was only so much to discover in Diagon Alley, which led to her weaving her way through Knockturn and drinking herself halfway to oblivion the night before. The bartender didn't like her in his bar, but charged her double and let her stay.

"Hermione!" Ginny enveloped her in a tight hug. "It's so good to see you." Hermione smiled despite the fact that the sun was about to split her head open. "The last month with Mum as the only girl in the house was unbearable." Mrs. Weasley sent her daughter a look as she looked over Harry and Ron. "Have you talked to anyone since you left?"

"No, I didn't feel like being friendly." She let go of the handle of her trunk. "I needed the time to myself, you know? After that fight with Ron, I was thinking too much."

"We saw you in The Daily Prophet stumbling out of Knockturn Alley, What were you thinking?" Ginny's eyes were sad. She could have owled her friend at any point. No doubt Mrs. Weasley would have rushed her daughter to apparate.

"I was thinking that even when they charge me double, the fire whiskey is still cheap." Ginny gave a short laugh.

"Have you spoken to Theo? Or Blaise and Pansy?" Hermione shook her head. "Do you have any idea how many letters they sent me?" She jabbed one finger into the other girl's chest. "Ron was throwing the biggest tantrum, I'll have you know."

"I'm aware. At some point all of them have shown up at my door. Ron was the worst."

"I didn't know he came looking for you."

"Oh, yes. First he groveled at my door and then when I didn't answer he called me a whore. And told me how none of this wouldn't have happened if I wasn't being a prude." Ginny clenched her fists at her side. "Don't. He's your brother."

"The fact that his last name is Weasley gives me even more of a right to beat him to a bloody pulp. I'll bet I can swing my trunk at him." Hermione laughs, the first genuine laugh in Godric knows how long.

"Don't, Ginny. It's not going to solve anything and I'm sure you've used violence since I've been gone."

"Malfoy looks awful." She gasps and Hermione whips her head around.

There on the platform he is standing with his mother, looking like she did when she stumbled out of the pub. Narcissa waves to her with a smile. She forces a smile, but waves back. "He looks how I feel." Hermione whispers.

"He went to trial, and at the end-I'm sure he's got a lot in common with you right now. Has he talked to you since he was released?" She shook her head. A half lie, she admonished. He hadn't reached out to her personally, rather they ran smack dab into each other in a pub last week and she fucking ran, mumbling a quick, "Fuck, I'm so sorry."

"I hope he's alright." She means it, but that's just something everyone says. Draco Malfoy clearly was not okay and seeing him in Knockturn proved as much. Mr. Weasley waved the girls over, but Hermione couldn't quite tear her eyes from Malfoy. He looked so much paler, and like sleep was eluding him just as well.

"It's good to see you." Arthur pulled her in for a hug. "Molly and I were worried when we saw that article." Ron didn't hide how he was staring.

"I'm sorry for worrying you both" She replied, wrapping her arms around him for a hug. "I'm feeling more like myself now that we're returning to Hogwarts."

"Time to go." Molly ushers them to the platform.

"Wait, I'm sorry." Hermione says as Narcissa waves for her to come to her. "I'll meet you on the train." She says to Ginny alone, who nods.

"Write us when you can, dear. We'd love to hear from you." Molly says. "Especially if you need anything." She nods, knowing Molly had worried as her own mother would have.

"I promise." She drags her trunk behind her quickly. The younger Malfoy glanced at her and then to his mother before boarding the train. "Mrs. Malfoy." She greets.

"Would you please call me Narcissa, Miss Granger. I'd like to distance myself from Lucius's infamy."

Hermione sucked in a breath. That was not what she expected. "I can do that, if you wouldn't mind calling me Hermione instead." She gave her a warm smile. "Have you been well?"

"Not particularly, but I'm grateful my son and I have been safe." She replies, her hands clasped in front of her. "I never properly thanked you for serving as a witness in his trial, Hermione."

"There's no need. I would have never left him. Not after, not after he saved my life. He didn't deserve to be thrown into Azkaban. Malfoy did what he had to in order to survive."

Narcissa smiled then, tucking a stray piece of hair behind Hermione's ear. "I know he didn't deserve to meet such a cruel punishment. Draco is punishing himself, as are you. He told me you were in a pub."

"I was." She admitted.

"He told me you ran away, and he thought you might have been afraid of him."

"Afraid of him?" Hermione echoed. "I would never be afraid of him. I haven't exactly been myself. I couldn't let him see me like that. I couldn't let anyone see me like that." She said quickly.

"That's what I told him, and I apologize for my presumptions. I rather wanted to hear you say it as well." Hermione nods. "If it comes up, please tell him you weren't scared of him. He will never admit this, but I'm certain he feels saving you from Lucius is the only thing he did right in that war."

"If it comes up, I promise." Hermione knew she would be the one to bring it up. "As fellow Heads', we can hardly avoid each other forever."

"Have a good term, Hermione."

"Have a good year, Narcissa." She says quietly. "Thank you for telling me." The blonde woman was already gone with a distinct crack.

Hermione boarded the train, dragging her trunk down the hallway to the Heads' compartment. She had passed the compartment that housed so many of her friends, and friend turned boyfriend turned ex boyfriend. Ron called her name, but the slamming of the door behind her answered that.

"Do you have to be so bloody loud?" Malfoy snapped. He was laying on his back on the bench. His legs were much too long. He'd drawn the curtains, immersing the room in the pitch black darkness.

"Still as infuriating as ever, aren't you, Malfoy?"

"Granger?"

"Obviously. Lumos." She laid her wand on the table, using the light to shove her trunk into the corner. She sat opposite of him. "Nox."

"Afraid of the dark, Granger?" He asked, and she just knew that same cocky smirk was plastered on his face. She remained silent. "What did she talk to you about?"

"I'm sure you'd prefer to not know." She replied. Fuck her Gryffindor bravery, she wasn't about to bring up something he probably regretted telling his mother. "It's nothing of importance, Malfoy."

"She mentioned the pub, didn't she?" He took her silence as an answer. "Look,"

She cut him off. He already knew, so might as well. As if he could be any worse than he had been in the past. "No, you look, I believe I gave you the wrong impression. I wasn't afraid of you, Malfoy. As someone nearly as intelligent as myself, you should know that. I didn't want you to see me so fucking broken."

He said nothing at first. She could hear the sound of his shallow breathing. She loathed admitting anything. It felt like her life was spilling out, on display for everyone. Poor Hermione Granger.

"What do you mean nearly as intelligent as you?" He asked. She laughed nervously, glad he'd decided to not respond to her truths.

"As I remember, you were always behind me in marks. Not the other way around. I know I've been gone for a year, but surely you haven't forgotten." She'd spent the summer drunk if she had to be in the dark. It reminded her of the moment the wind changed and the snatchers were coming. Right this second, she was grateful for it.

Her face would have given her way. The way her eyes still watered if she thought too much about things. Malfoy had seen her fall in the pub, and she wasn't about to slip up again. "That sounds like a challenge."

"I've always loved challenges." She replies. If only McGonagall hadn't confiscated that time turner. She would have doubled up on classes if only to distract herself.

"Go to sleep." He says. "Don't argue. I saw you on the platform. You've only just sobered up. Sleep until we need to get the first years ready." She doesn't argue. Hermione bundles her hoodie underneath her head as a pillow on the bench and lets the emptiness of sleep take hold.

She still had nightmares. They felt too real. It made her skin crawl as she returned to the moment where Bellatrix utters a sentence that makes her heart stop beating. "Leave the mudblood."

Greyback dragged her two closest confidantes into the Malfoy Dungeons, as Ron cried desperately, "Leave her! You can have me!" Bellatrix howled with laughter, a sound that would haunt her for rest of her miserable life, however long she would live now. It could be minutes. Perhaps hours, if Bellatrix was in need of a play thing.

If she were in need a bloody, helpless doll, Hermione found she would fit the bill. She tried not to fucking scream. She bit her lip until she drew blood, but she would not give her the satisfaction of breaking her. The privilege did not belong to a bloody person in the world. Hermione tried to think of anything else, but there aren't many ways to escape the sensation of our skin being carved into.

She cried harder than she thought possible and all the while Bellatrix laughed. As Hermione's head lolled to the side, she caught the sight of Draco. He looked as if he'd be sick. She saw him realize this was what the Death Eaters meant, that it was what being one of them meant and she saw how he was not on board with it at all.

She wasn't begging him for help, not really, just anyone. Begging for some kind of miracle.

Someone was shaking her shoulder, but she was locked in a nightmare, where Hogwarts was falling and Lucius Malfoy was on the verge of insanity. Someone was screaming, it sounded like her screaming in protest as someone-he, definitely a he-grabbed her and side apparated her into the ruins of the castle.

"Granger!" He jerked her suddenly, and found her wand poised at his throat. She hissed his last name with such venom, he almost staggered away. "Granger, wrong Malfoy. I'm never going to hurt you." Slowly she came into her sense and dropped her wand. He let her frail wrist drop from his hand.

His soft demeanor vanished, and she was content to pretend it never appeared. "Change into your robes, and then meet me at the front." The lights were back on, and he'd seen her tear streaked face. Returning home brought about as many nightmares as she was escaping she realized.


	2. Chapter Two

"Granger!" He said, exasperated. Fuck, she'd been shaking for several minutes and she wasn't coming out of whatever terror she was reliving. It weren't as if he could go snag Potter and say, "She's not waking up." He'd be cursed six ways from Sunday, despite the obvious fact he was never going to hurt this girl.

Even though if he'd been a true Death Eater, he would have killed her without a second thought. It didn't turn out that way though, not at the end. His emotions won out.

Finally he just yanked on her shoulder hard and hoped she wouldn't kill him. Her wand was jabbed at his throat instantly. "Malfoy." She hissed, her eyes still shut.

He sighed, grabbing the other wrist and gently as he could as she tried to pummel him with a tiny fist. "Wrong Malfoy." He said softly. "I'm never going to hurt you." Her eyes opened, and then widened as her wand fell to the floor. Her pulse was running wild where his thumb was pressed into her wrist.

He released her wrist, letting it fall into her lap. "Change into your robes, and then meet me at the front." He let the door close behind him, trying to push her face out of his mind. She cried in her sleep and she talked.

Draco, no. I can help you. That's your mother. He will kill you. Let me help you!

Clearly, she dreamt about him apparating her the fuck out of dodge. And his father still haunted her. Approximately four months and one day ago, it was a thin line. The Dark Mark burned against his skin. Voldemort was calling them to the other Death Eaters, but Narcissa would not budge. As if it was now or never to give her son a chance to be on the right side of history, she fought Lucius relentlessly.

May 2, 1998

Frozen to the spot by a full body curse his father cast, he watched her body collapse in a fit of spams. "He's just a boy, Lucius!" She cried, her voice raw. That was the moment she was going to die in front of him. Of all the people he promised to protect, he wouldn't save her.

"Expelliarmus!" Lucius's wand shot out of his hand. Draco knew who that voice belonged to even if he was frozen while facing the other way. No surprise; as a member of the death trap triplets, she never kept herself out of harms way. No, she was a stupid mixture of bravery, hope and justice.

"Fucking mudblood." Lucius growled.

"Finite Incantum!" Hermione was the one to release the full body bind without hesitation.

"Her brains must have deteriorated in the Manor, if she ever had any at all." It was the same man he'd admired all those years of childhood. But he couldn't see why he placed his father on the highest pedestal any longer. "Kill her." He barked, and insanity flashed in his eyes as if the lights were going out.

Draco shook his head. "I can't." As his father swung at him wildly, he apparated directly in front of Granger, grabbing her by her waist and side apparating them both into the ruins. She landed against a wall, him slamming into her.

"We have to go back." She said. "I can help you. I was always going to help you!" It didn't register then, the always she'd tacked on. "It's your mother. Let me help you."

"Get to Potter, Granger." He said roughly, backing away. "Stay the fuck away from him." She shook her head.

"Stop being so stubborn for one minute." She shoved his chest. "You don't have to fight alone, you know that!"

"I don't deserve to fight any other way! I've made this bed and I will lie in it."

"You've done what you had to in order to survive, just like I have!" She growled. "We don't have time for this, Malfoy. The spot we are standing in will be blown apart soon. I can help get your mother to mediwizards."

"As if they would ever help a Malfoy." He sneered, batting her hands away when she grabbed the lapels of his tattered suit.

"They would if I was there and you know it! Stop making things harder because you think you fucking deserve to be punished!" She screamed. Her back hit the wall as he towered over her, alarmingly close.

"You have no idea what I deserve, mudblood." She'd seen that sneer so many times over the years, the way his lip curled when he was defensive.

"I know you don't think of me as a mudblood anymore." She said very quietly. "If you did, you would have avada'd me and I wouldn't be here anymore." He didn't say a word to correct her. It would have been a lie.

"It would be easier if I did. Don't follow me; don't be the hero for me here. You have to go to Potter." That fire has not left her eyes. "I didn't save you so you could die, Granger. I need you to live so I can tell you how fucking stupid you are when this is over." Her chest rises and falls. "Before I get thrown into Azkaban, that is."

Her nostrils flared. "You are not going to Azkaban." She hissed. "I know you helped Dobby, don't you dare try to lie to me. I know what you have done for me and I will repay that."

"Repay me by surviving, why don't you? That's all I've fucking wanted." He takes a deep breath, and that's as close to the truth as he can say outloud. She's brilliant, he tells himself, she can figure it out someday.

"Draco, no!" He guessed he was about to die, but hearing his first name from her was something warm he could carry to his early grave. "I can help you. That's your mother. He will kill you!" Her voice broke then and it was reassuring to imagine it weren't out of pity, but something else. "Let me help you, Draco!" And then he was gone.

xxx

It wasn't easy to return home with Narcissa, who was admitted to St. Mungo's several times for lashing out on herself. It wasn't easy accepting the fact that several ties had been severed by their acts of betrayal. It was easy, however, to sabotage his trial. Like hell he was going to be let go, told "it's okay, just don't do it again."

It would have worked too, if it weren't for a meddling, bushy haired witch who had made him a promise. She didn't give a shit that he never asked for her help, or her promises. By the faces of her two friends at the trial, she had not breathed one word of her rescue from one missing Lucius Malfoy. Nor had she told anyone the truth of how Dobby created a distraction of the falling chandelier.

They subjected her to a truth potion, beginning with the question. "Why should Draco Malfoy's crimes be absolved?" Why, he wondered, he had killed, he had tortured, and he did not deserve the saving grace of Hermione fucking Granger. But here she was forcing her way into her life without knocking.

"Draco committed atrocities, I cannot lie. However, I have committed crimes in this war to save my own skin and The Daily Prophet labels me as a war hero." Her voice was hard, and he watched how she meticulously avoided Ron Weasley's side glares. "I am no stranger to the killing curse for it has passed my lips more times than I can tell you."

There were several sharp intakes of breath throughout the room. "I have taken lives," She continued. "To see the betterment of others. I have watched the life leave someone to save myself or my loved ones. It sounds like a logical reason, wrapped in a nice bow for you to set aside, but it is not." Draco could feel the panic clawing at his stomach, already hating how she could lump herself in as the same person as himself.

"Miss Granger," The wizard began.

"I have not finished." She said calmly, standing and pressing her dress down. The bottom of the chair screeched against the floor. Hermione met Draco's gaze once before turning away. "Draco Malfoy has taken lives, just as I have. I have forced the information out of Death Eaters until they begged me to kill them."

His only thought was something horrible had happened to this woman. She was as calm as leaves falling, but that's the horrible thing. Humans are not beautiful when they fall. They are their souls set on fire. "I fought for my life. Draco fought for his own life and the life of his parents. If Voldemort asked you to kill to save your family, would you let them die? I have obliviated my parents, and they will never know they have a daughter, much less a daughter who fought for them. But him? He fought so he could save his family and that's choosing a side that's not the Death Eaters or the Order of the Phoenix."

"Miss Granger, the victims of the Wizarding World demand justice for their families, for what the Malfoys have wrought on this world!" He exclaims.

"If you demand justice then you will arrest me here and now. I have committed the same crimes and you grant me leniency for being on the winning side. Tell me, would Voldemort not have done the same thing if he won? He would have cast the losing side away to be forgotten. The crimes listed are torture and murder." Draco watched her in a mix of horror and awe as she stomped around the desk.

"I used the killing curse on nine individuals whom I can name right now. I tortured two individuals for information to end the war." Her eyes cut to Potter and Weasley, who could only stare open mouthed.

Who the fuck was this woman?

The wizard stumbled over his words before looking for the verdict. At her outburst they threw the case out. Apparently, there are more people who would take up arms to break Hermione Granger out of Azkaban then there were people who wanted him to be thrown into Azkaban. And as she left the room, she looked back to Draco, who wanted to move after her. Keep his promise to tell her how fucking stupid she was but he was rooted to the spot as his mother flung her arms around his neck.

She didn't walk as she always had, she didn't hold her head up anymore. She walked like she was unafraid, perhaps because she'd stared death in the face one too many times. But he saw it in the way she flinched when Weasley wrapped his arm around his waist, or the way when she faked a laugh she clutched her arm. Where underneath the pretty blue lace, she was scarred by Bellatrix for however long she lived.

And when she hit the door, she couldn't help one last look at him. He saw the terror, and the pain. Hermione Granger just wasn't the same person anymore. In fact, he had no idea who she was, but ultimately decided it was the person who saw straight into his soul.

xxx

"Malfoy," She said, coming next to him. "Have you already gathered the first years?" He gave a sharp nod.

"We can lead them to Hagrid now. The prefects will lead the other students into the Great Hall." They walked side by side behind the large group of first years. Several of them kept stealing at glances at the two.

"That's Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy!" One eleven year old boy whispered too loudly. "They saved each other's lives." Hermione's lips curved up into a smile where Draco couldn't see. "I got her chocolate frog card." Draco snickered.

"Famous now, Granger?" She shrugged with a smile.

"She's amazing." A girl beside the boy said. "I'd like to be like her when I'm her age." All Hermione could think was she hoped that didn't become the case.

"I hope someone will love me like he loves her someday." Another girl whispered and they burst into giggles. Hermione couldn't hold her laugh that burst from her throat as she threw her head back. He thought to give her a quick jab, but he chuckled to himself.

"I do not love her." He finally said when they stopped laughing. "She's a pain in my arse." He elbowed him in the ribs. Both girls flushed a dark red. "Not to mention a bossy, know it all." He grinned as Hermione crossed her arms.

"Deny it all you want," The girl said. "But you don't look at someone like that," She pointed at his face. "Unless you care about them."

"Ah," he began. "I only said I didn't love her. I never said I didn't care about her. Clearly we don't have a Ravenclaw here."

"Malfoy!" She punched him in the arm.

"I didn't want to be sorted into Ravenclaw." The little girl tossed her hair over her shoulder as if she'd won the argument and climbed into Hagrid's boat.

"That little brat got the last word in." He grumbled.

"She also got you to admit you have feelings. Let's hurry to the castle." Hermione said.

"That was only to give them something to gossip about," He said. "And as if I have feelings. I'm obligated to care after you saved my arse."

She turned to face him and cocked her head. "Why do you lie to me?" Hermione asked before rushing up the steps. "Don't answer that. I know you're not obligated to tell me the truthful. Let's get this over with."

"Granger," He tapped on her shoulder. "Are you alright?"

"Well, I could be in a pub drunk, but I'm here having an anxiety attack so what does that tell you?" She snapped, yanking the door open.

Whatever response he might have had was drowned out by the Great Hall. There were so many students had returned. McGonagall stood at the podium, positively beaming at her two Heads.

"Mione!" Weasley called, with a mouth full of food. Her shoulder sagged when he called out for her. She was about to make a turn for the Gryffindor table when someone-multiple someones- knocked Draco out of the way to grab Hermione.

"Where have you been?" Blaise asked as he ripped her in for a hug. She smiled, patting his forearm when it was time to let go. Draco watched in confusion as three of his closest friends embraced Granger and told her how much they had missed her.

He moved from the moment, because it was just another moment in which he didn't belong. Moments he didn't belong in had made his time through the summer. He took a seat at their table, watching Theo pick her up in a hug and swing her around. She smiled the forced smile he had seen in the media. Her redheaded friend had looked away from the reunion, angrily shouting at Potter.

Pansy was the most surprising of all as she wrapped her arms around Granger's neck, squeezing extra tight as if it could be the last time she ever would. Headmistress McGonagall silenced the room as the first years entered and the sorting ceremony began.


	3. Chapter Three

The inside of the Great Hall was as breathtaking as it had been the years before, with the ceiling charmed to appear as the night sky. It was so vivid, she imagined it would look the same if it were a glass ceiling. As the Sorting began, she found she couldn't participate in the inane chatter of her closest friends.

Had it only been four months? It felt like a lifetime had passed since the end of the war, since the end for so many of her friends. She recognized the wall directly behind Professor Trelawney's seat as the spot where Malfoy apparated them into the castle. It was not an easy memory, to have been so raw, vulnerable and open with him. Openly crying to let her help save his mother.

She remembered the bodies that had laid in this same room, slowly covered by white sheets. She remembered Tonks and Lupin and Harry reached across to squeeze her hand. He always knew. He had to be remembering just like she did. Ron's jaw was clenched as his eyes narrowed on their brief moment of comfort.

As her fellow housemates erupted into loud cheers when they gained a new lion, she clapped quietly. Enthusiasm would find her later. As the last first year was sorted into Slytherin, their food appeared on the tables.

"Are you excited to have your own dorm this year, Hermione?" Ginny asked.

"I am." It would be such a breath of fresh air to be alone each night, tucked away from her friends. They meant well and it was the thought that warmed her heart. Being tucked away in the Leaky Cauldron gave her a sense of freedom she didn't want to give up.

"Do you know what it looks like?"

She shook her head. "I've read about it. There's a shared common room with an attached kitchen. And there are two separate bedrooms, with different passwords." The entrance to the dorm had it's own password, shared by both inhabitants. She'd studied it in Hogwarts: A History the first chance she got, dreaming of the shot at Head Girl.

"You'll have to show us sometime." Harry spoke with a full mouth. "This weekend?" She nodded, pushing her food around with her fork. Her stomach was still churning from the copious amounts of alcohol and she lacked her appetite.

"Can't we just go to the Gryffindor Common Room?" Ron asked in the same exasperated tone he'd used all summer.

"Why would we? Hermione has her own." Ginny said.

"I don't feel comfortable with Malfoy. You shouldn't be so comfortable with him either, Mione. You're acting like you're friends." She shook her head. "I know you felt obligated to help him, but he's still the same prat he's always been."

"Thank you for your concern, but I'm not worried. If Malfoy wanted any kind of harm to come to me, it would have happened four months ago. If you feel uncomfortable, I'm afraid that's your problem. Not mine."

"Stop being a bitch. I came back to Hogwarts for you, you know." He snapped at her. The pit of her stomach twisted like she was going to vomit.

"You've got a lot of nerve acting like I should be grateful to you!" She growled, shoving her plate away. Their new housemates looked like they were losing their enthusiasm by the minute. "You broke up with me for one the most selfish reasons I can think of. You showed up at my door to apologize and then called me a whore when I refused to listen to you."

"Keep your voice down." He hissed.

"No!" She slammed her palms on the table as she stood. "You don't get to dump me because I won't fuck you and then blame me. You do not get to be the victim, Weasley." Hermione excused herself from dinner, feeling weary under the worried looks from McGonagall. Then Ron's fingers closed around the one arm she couldn't have touched and was yanked back to the table. Using her free hand she grabbed the nearest pitcher of pumpkin juice and dumped it over his head.

His features twisted into anger first, and then humiliation. "I hope you are fucking happy with yourself." She choked out and exited the room.

It was their first night and she already displayed how she was a loose canon. Dangerous when her emotions came into question. Was she really ever so calm and level-headed? She cursed herself as she paced the room, and finally decided to rummage through her trunk.

She would have to accompany Malfoy on patrols tonight, but as long as she didn't over do it this time, Hermione would be her normal, capable self. As long as no one had snuck out for once. A probability that made her laugh. As if. These first years wouldn't know what hit them as soon as they got caught by Filch.

Hermione fell back onto the couch, not even bothering with a glass. She tipped the bottle by it's neck to her lips, feeling the familiar burning of the firewhiskey slide down her throat. Disgusting. The first round of drinks always made her question why she was drinking in the first place. It tasted bloody awful. Then she felt like the room had suddenly grown hot, and her head seemed to spin. Yes, that was the feeling she was after.

Hermione drank quickly. It was the only way she wasn't going to back out. At least with her impaired judgement, she wouldn't back out anyways.

She attended the same therapy that Harry and Ron did after the war. In St. Mungo's, they tried for group sessions at first, but it didn't work that way. Ron was able to focus on the present easier from the start and the counseling helped him in a way it hadn't for her. Harry had been living in a nightmare of his own since the start of Hogwarts, with Voldemort having a grand plan that had taken his life places he may not have gone otherwise.

Hermione was the strong one. She was clear in her thoughts; she maintained the ability to compartmentalize. She kept her emotions in the background for the year, and then there was nothing to fight against anymore. Life was as it was always meant to be. But she kept imagining someone around the corner, clad in dark robes and a Death Eater mask. She wasn't calm, she was unhinged.

The Ministry thought it would be the best to assign an Auror to Hermione Granger until Lucius Malfoy was apprehended. That didn't go as they planned either.

She woke up to the smallest of sounds, wondering if she were being watched. It wasn't healthy at all. In the therapy sessions, her feelings made sense. Dr. Vigar understood how she was coping with the traumatic event that left her hanging on, just barely. Outside that room, no one understood her quite as well.

She was cold, and distant. Ron took it as a personal betrayal and before she could attempt to have him talk to Dr. Vigar, he verbally attacked her. She had no qualms with her doctor explaining her feelings to Ron because she didn't know the words. How do I describe that when I enter a room, I commit the exits to my memory? How do I tell him I can't stand him touching me because the last person to be so close tortured me?

She'd fucking tried to explain it, but there were no delicate words. All he heard was "Every time you touch me, I think of Bellatrix Lestrange." And she choked on the weak explanation that it wasn't him, it was her.

He questioned her in the middle of Molly's kitchen, yelling how she should know he would never hurt her. As she tried to agree, she shut her mouth, not knowing if she believed that. This was her best friend, and he had blown up on her moments after a disastrous moment in his bedroom.

She groaned out loud at that memory. How many times had she told him from May to August that she didn't want to be intimate? She was clear that she didn't know when she might be ready. But his fingers had ghosted up her thighs, and underneath her dress. She diffused to situation, telling him no. He sighed, and asked when then, Hermione. It was clear he didn't understand at all and she didn't even fault him for that. Hermione said she didn't know if she would ever want it with the way she felt.

Hermione was drinking as if her life depended on it when Malfoy stepped through the portrait. "Hello." She greeted and then tipped the bottle back to her lips.

"How much have you drank?" He asked, laying his robes over the back of a chair, and moved his wand to light a crackling fire.

"This bottle was full until about twenty minutes ago." She replied, removing the bottle from her lips with a pop. "How was dinner?"

"Just lovely. Your redheaded idiot told me how I didn't deserve to be alive before I left." She rolled her eyes.

"He's not my anything. Fuck him." She groaned.

"Stop." He said, taking the bottle from her hand. "You've drank over half of this. Not to mention how fast you drank it."

"I've been practicing. I can handle my alcohol." Hermione replied angrily.

"Walk to me in a straight line and I will give it back to you." It was only a few feet, she thought to herself. "Did you forget about patrols?"

"No, I didn't. I just needed to forget about some things." She stood from the couch. "I haven't had the best day. Or summer. Or year." She laughed sadly, her eyes downcast. Hermione walked slowly to Malfoy, managing to stay in a straight line until she'd almost reached him.

"Shit." He shouted as she collapsed right in front of him. Draco caught her right before she hit her hand on the end table.

"I'm feeling it." She mumbled, pushing her palms against his chest. He managed to get her onto the couch. Her robes were discarded on the floor and she'd changed into muggle clothes right after escaping to the dorm. "Thanks, I guess." She turned in until she was facing the couch. "How long until patrols?"

"An hour or so." He falls into the chair closest to the couch. "What happened with Weasley?" He asked her and she just wanted to ignore him. Malfoy would probably laugh at her even if he wasn't as much of an arse as he used to be. But to hell with rationalization. She was drunk in the same room as Draco Malfoy, boy who saved her and that was a conundrum itself.

"I let everyone know our break up was his fault and then I poured pumpkin juice on his head." She smiled as his laugh slipped out.

"I saw that. Do you want to talk about it?"

Her shoulders fell. "I guess, but I doubt you want to hear me whine, so I won't bother you."

"Granger, you're allowed to complain. We're hardly enemies anymore." He stared at the ceiling, counting the blemishes. "You don't want to talk to your friends because they're his friends too. And you don't want to feel guilty for talking badly about him, do you? You're in luck because I couldn't give a shit less about him."

She flopped over onto her back. "This feels like my therapy sessions at St. Mungo's." Hermione said, craning her head back to see his eyes return to her. Godric, those eyes were pretty.

"You attended them as well?" She nodded. "They didn't help me."

"They didn't really help. The doctor understood my feelings and assured me they were valid. Life got in the way. I kept expecting someone to pop out from behind a corner and avada me. But about Ron," She bit her lip. Talking to him about this was crazy. "Will you promise to not tell anyone what I say?"

"I won't tell anyone what you say, Granger."

"To put it crudely, he wanted sex and everytime he touched me I remembered the war and the night at Malfoy Manor." She spit the words out as if they burned her mouth and watched his expression darken. "I know it sounds ridiculous, but,"

He cut her off. "Are you about to tell he's so stupid that he couldn't comprehend that?"

"You don't think it's ridiculous? You don't think it sounds crazy?"

"Fuck. No." He gritted between his teeth. "He's so stupid, I don't know how he functions. It's perfectly normal. You're reacting to a traumatic event by pushing everyone away. That's grief counseling. They told him the same thing, trust me. Weasel is just thick." She shrugged.

"One day over the summer, he decided to push his luck by putting his hand up my dress while we were kissing." She swiped the firewhiskey from the end table and took a drink. "I kind of freaked out. We had a huge fight about how I didn't feel comfortable. He told me how I should never compare him to Bellatrix. He told me how I wasn't the person he fell in love with anymore and I told him to not come back to Hogwarts. I told him to do whatever he wanted because I didn't want to be with him. I went to the Leaky Cauldron and stayed until the term began. I ran into you there."

Draco was silent. His fists were clenched in his lap. "Are you okay? Her voice was soft compared to the crackling fire in the room.

"I'm just thinking I could kill him." He replied. Draco reached out for the bottle and she let him have it. She expected him to trash it, not drink it for himself.

"Careful, Draco, you might make me think you actually care about me." She grinned, sitting up and tucking her legs beneath her.

"About what I said earlier, I don't feel obligated to care because you served as a witness on my trial." He looked like he might be sick, as if whatever he was about to say wasn't in his vocabulary.

"You don't have to tell me anything I already know." She replied. "Have you been well?"

"I would say I've been as well as you have over the summer." He replied.

"Oh?" She giggled. "Did someone pressure you for sex as well?" He snorted while taking a drink and the firewhiskey came out his nose. Hermione howled with laughter.

"That was not funny, Granger. That shit burns!" He was laughing just as loud with her. "I meant the alcohol." He finally said once the laughing ceased.

"I'm aware, but I thought we could both use the laugh."

Her life felt like it was flipped upside down, but she still knew one thing. Hermione Granger was always right.


	4. Chapter Four

After patrols, Hermione escaped to her room, but even the door could not blot out her sobs. He'd come very close to admitting his closeted feelings while she was venting to him in their common room. He wasn't naive enough to believe keeping her at an arm's length would be easy for him. She drew him in every time he was close enough.

Hell, he'd spent too many moments over the summer wondering if she were okay. After seeing her leave his trial, he knew that confidence was just a carefully place facade to keep herself safe. His mother urged him to owl the girl, at the very least to properly thank her. Had Draco sat down to write Granger a letter, it would not have been a thank you. It would have been an unsophisticated confession is his maddened handwriting.

And him being the idiot he was, he would have hand delivered it. Her words were still in his head about Weasley. He wanted to march to the Gryffindor common room and beat him within an inch of his life. It was his fault the poor girl's heart wrenching sobs were pouring through entire dorm. What a fucking prat.

Draco drained the last of the firewhiskey, thinking he would need it to make it through the night.

* * *

He was sure these bloody third years would be the cause of the Head Boy title being yanked out from under him. The words "death eater" and "Malfoy" were repetitive in their conversation. He hardly expected it to be easy to gain respect, but if it had gone his way he would have attended Hogwarts as a normal student.

Maybe Weasley would have been Head Boy since he was  _so_ admired. Draco's nails bit into his palms as he imagined Granger being confined in a small space with him. Speaking of, she'd mentioned a quick goodbye as she rushed for the portrait at seven am, on the dot. That wasn't all though. When she reached the exit, she turned back and mumbled a thank you. Then she was gone before he could respond.

_Don't bloody thank me._

"How do you imagine Hermione lives with him?" A third year girl, with dyed pink hair spoke from the table. Her eyes flashed to Malfoy, the message clear:  _you don't belong here._

"I'd imagine they get along just fine." A smooth voice cut through the library. The girl stared at her shoes, her white cheeks reddening. "Do you normally gossip so loud, Miss Archer? It's incredibly rude." Hermione stood to the right of him, hands on her hips. "If I hear the words Draco Malfoy and Death Eater leave your mouth another time, I will take twenty points from Gryffindor."

"That's your house!" Archer defended, raising her voice too loudly.

"I'm afraid I've lost the ability to care, Miss Archer." She bit back.

"Why are you defending him?" The small group of third years had turned away from their friend, not at all interested in the wrath of the girl before them.

In the years prior, he never thought of her as intimidating. Not even scary. "Do I need a reason?" Hermione asked. "Do I need a reason to treat him like a person instead of an exhibit for you to laugh at?"

"You're acting as if you're friends with him after everything,"

"You will stop talking right now. You are thirteen years old and you have no idea what you are discussing. Who is in my life is of no concern of yours. This is a different matter. It's disrespectful."

"He was a Death Eater." Archer said flatly. "I lost people in this war too."

"Granger, she isn't wrong. Leave it be." He told her, almost reaching out to touch her to rip her out of this pointless argument.

"Yes, he was." She finally said after closing and opening her eyes again. "He was an awful person, but that didn't make him evil. I lost people too. My friends that I loved more than anything, and I almost lost my life and he didn't let that happen. He chose to save my life rather than fight with Voldemort. Just because he made the right choice too late doesn't make him an irredeemable asshole."

Archer blinked. "Wait, that rubbish is true?"

"Rubbish?" He exclaimed. "I nearly died from both sides, you little brat!" Hermione elbowed him in the ribs as he stood. "Yes, it's very true."

"I thought it was fake. I thought she lied to help you." The girl's voice had dropped several notches, losing fire. "We thought you two hated each other."

"Absolutely loathe him." Hermione stated. "He's a foul, evil, loathsome little cockroach." A grin had stretched lazily over her lips.

"I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me, Granger." He placed a hand over his heart. "You do care." She scoffed. The third years stared at them in bewilderment.

"Shouldn't you all be on your way? Quidditch tryouts start in ten minutes." Hermione said, tapping on her wrist as if she wore a watch. They shuffled their papers together and rushed out behind one another. "That happen often?" He grumbles. "You weren't in potions."

"Brilliant observation, Granger. I see they don't call you the brightest witch of our age for nothing." He smirked. That fucking smirk always made her angry.

"Theo and Blaise are looking for you." She replied. "They want you to meet them at the quidditch pitch."

"They're running the tryouts, not me. What do they want me for?"

"I don't know, Malfoy. I'm not your secretary." She crossed her arms over her chest. "Why would you let them keep on like that? Why not set them straight?"

"Because there is nothing to set straight. Just because I managed to do one thing right doesn't mean I earned any brownie points." He snapped, slamming his book shut and shoving it in his bag.

"I'm sorry I said anything in the first place." She replied, taking her leave.

"Granger," She stopped just a few feet from him, and she was staring at her shoes. "It's kind of you to defend me, but it doesn't bother me as much now."

"You're such a liar." She replies. "I see right through you , you know. You're just as fucked up as I am, and I just thought we could get along. I apologize for my hopeful feelings. How utterly Gryffindor of me, I know. You don't have to say it."

It was a slap to the face. Draco did one of the many, many things he said he'd never do. He tugged on her shoulder as she walked away. "Why are you crying?"

"I'm not." Her hair was falling into her face, hiding her, but he could hear her sniffles. "I should probably go. Pansy and Ginny are waiting for me at the quidditch pitch."

"I can walk with you." He offered even though he'd regret it later. Every second he spent with her left him wanting more even if it was nothing but silence. She nodded, readjusting the bag over her shoulder. As they walked down the hallway leading to the exit, he kept fucking talking. "I said I did one thing right." She looked up at him, and he was reminded of just how short she was in comparison. He towered over her. "But if it was only ever going to be one thing, I'm glad it was protecting you."

He instantly regretted being so forthcoming, but the way her face lit up almost made it worth it. "Thanks, Malfoy."

"It doesn't change a sodding thing between us." His voice was rough. "You're still a bossy know it all."

"I wouldn't dream of it. After all, you're still second best to me in  _everything._ "

"I handle firewhiskey better than you, so I'd say that counts for something." He chuckled at that angry look on her face.

"Have you ever had muggle alcohol?" He shook his head. "It's stronger and I'm willing to bet I can drink more than you."

"Oh?" He snorted. "Considering you can't handle firewhiskey, I don't think you can."

"Afraid, Malfoy?"

"Never."

The brisk air of October met them as they stepped through the doors of the castle. Cheering rose from the stands down at the tryouts. All the way from their path, he could hear Blaise shouting. "That's not how you fly!" Hermione laughed beside him, recognizing that voice.

"How did you become such close friends with my lot?"

"A party in fifth year. I believe Theo's words were and I quote, " _She's not that bad. And has she always been that hot?"._  Something like that. We were all so drunk, I'm not sure any of us remembered we were supposed to be at eachother's throats." She shrugged. "I was having so much fun; I wouldn't have cared anyways."

"Theo?" He echoed. "Theo was saying that about you?" She rolled her eyes.

"Don't act like you don't know. I'm sure you're dying to insult me about it. Go ahead. I don't want you to spontaneously combust."

"As easy as it would be to insult you, since you're asking. What exactly am I insulting you for?" A dark blush pooled in her cheeks. "Granger?"

"You really don't know?" She asked, chewing on her bottom lip. "That little bastard!" Slipped between her teeth. "It's nothing. Why weren't you here in the first place? You're Slytherin's captain."

"I see you changing the subject." Her lips were pressed into a hard line. "I had other things I needed to do. Theo and Blaise can handle it. Or I thought they could."

"Oh my god." She whispered, staring behind the locker rooms, reaching into her wand pocket. Under the sun's glare, her skin lost it's color. She looked washed out, the only dash of color was her eyes. They were wide in horror. Her bottom lip trembled.

"Hermione?" She stared up at him, those brown eyes huge and watering. "What's wrong?"

"You didn't see?" She stammered, turning back the other direction. Her knuckles were white as she clutched her wand. "I have to go."

"Wait," He caught her gently by the elbow. "What did you see?" Last night, she'd dumped a pitcher of pumpkin juice on Weasley for grabbing her and he could only imagine how she was going to react. Hermione didn't lash out. It was the opposite. Her body was shaking and she rested her hand on his arm, grabbing onto him as if he were the only thing keeping her anchored. "Granger, I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong."

"You can't help me at all, Malfoy." She murmured. "No one can. I have to go to Madame Pomfrey. Tell Pansy I'm sick. Tell her anything, I don't care."

"Granger, you look like you've seen a ghost."

"Please let go of me, Draco." She whispered and he watched as she slipped from his grasp. Hermione murmured something unintelligible under her breath and rushed up the path they'd come.

"We're talking about this later, Granger!" He yelled, watching her run to the doors, throwing it open with such force it slammed against the outside of the castle.

Theo and Blaise could run the practice. They would be furious with their captain, but he needed to know what had scared Hermione Granger into running away from danger. Instead of head long into as she was so good at. He could think of a few things and they all made his stomach twist.

With all of the hopefuls within the locker rooms, he wouldn't be able to pinpoint the problem. And the spells he would use to uncover what could be hidden couldn't be seen by any student, lest he wanted to be sent packing.

_Fuck._

* * *

Blaise and Theo were useless. The two of them could not make one quidditch captain, and Draco Malfoy wondered why he ever wondered otherwise. His mind was not on the tryouts, not even fucking close. That would be too simple. His thoughts kept going to the witch who had just sprinted to Pomfrey, and where she was. What was she doing.

If he knew her, which he did, he knew she was in their dorm room, downing alcohol like it were a sport. Drinking let her forget, let her relax, let her be out of her mind and she believed it was the only acceptable time. Who knew if she had realized these truths as well, but it didn't take long for him to have her pegged.

She was reckless, and unhinged. She might have been to some parties in the last few years, but that didn't make her stumble in and out of pubs all summer. Maybe he should have owled her, because she wasn't able to function with all the secrets locked up in her pretty head. Now that was hopeful thinking. What could he have done?

He could draw a suspicion and he feared the thought. Hermione Granger might be more of a danger to herself than anyone else.


	5. Chapter Five

On the way to the infirmary, she smacked into Harry's chest as she rounded a corner. "Hermione?" Ron said, as Harry steadied her when she started to fall backwards. "Are you alright?"

They already knew she very well wasn't alright. Hermione shook her head. "I'm not feeling very well." It was a half-lie. "I'm on my way to Madame Pomfrey right now." The pit of her stomach felt like it had been twisted into knots. Short, rapid breaths fell from her mouth and her coloring still hadn't returned to her.

"Ron, I'm going to take her to the infirmary. I'll meet you in the common room." If Ron was planning to argue, he snapped his mouth shut when Harry's glare fixed on him. "Come with me." He told Hermione.

She followed him as he led in the opposite direction of Madame Pomfrey. "Do you have any sleeping draught left by chance?"

"I do. I can bring it by after we talk about this." No room for her to wiggle her way out of this one.

"Harry." She said, jerking away from him. "I don't want to talk about this." He shook his head. "You're going to tell Ron."

"No, I'm not. This isn't about Ron. It's about you." He pulled her to take a seat at the bottom of the steps of the Astronomy Tower. "I haven't talked to you in months, Hermione. And I mean really talk to you."

"I know."

"I miss you. You're my best friend and I can't stand watching you destroy yourself like this."

"I accept the help I deserve." She leaned her head on Harry's shoulder. "I don't know how to function. God, I would have been so excited to be back at Hogwarts. Now all I can look forward to is drinking."

"I know." She peered up at him. "I smelled the firewhiskey on you this morning in Potions." Harry shuffled, placing an arm around her shoulders. "You don't have to pretend you're the same person you were anymore. You don't have to pretend for anyone."

"I don't think you're going to like me anymore." She whispered. "Everytime I enter a room, I look for exits. I keep expecting for a death eater to appear from every corner. I wonder if I could even use an avada if I needed to save my life. And while that's going through my mind, Ron wonders why I won't sleep with him. Or why it was too hard to be with him."

"He doesn't understand." Harry agreed. "I know. I've tried to change his perspective, but he thinks it's 'best to move on.'"

"How can I move on, Harry? For fucks sake, I was walking with Malfoy to the Quidditch Pitch and I swear to you, I thought I saw Lucius Malfoy standing there. In black robes and his death eater mask." She shuddered against him. "I think I see things. Even in Diagon Alley, where it was peaceful. I don't trust anyone anymore."

Harry's arm tightened around her protectively as she shook with tears. "He's not going to hurt you. He will be caught."

"Everyone says that. They tell me it will be fine. They will catch him. It's been four goddamn months and he's not in Azkaban. Lucius will murder me if he gets the chance. He'd murder Draco!" If her best friend had any questions of when exactly Malfoy became just Draco to her, he didn't voice them.

"Malfoy can handle his father, Hermione. Hasn't he proven that by now?"

"You can't hold anything if someone fires the killing curse from behind you." She snapped. "I thought I saw him and I broke down, Harry. I wouldn't have been surprised if it was a poor student there and I just projected my fears."

A sigh left him. "I can't tell you I know how you feel, but no matter how you feel, I want to be here for you. I don't care if you're angry with Ron, if you're drunk, or if you're crying. It doesn't matter to me. If you need a punching bag, I can be that. If you need a shoulder, I can clearly do that." He motioned between them. Hermione choked on a laugh through the tears.

"Let's talk about something else, okay." The coarse material of her robes scratched against her skin as she blotted her tears. "Is Ron angry with me?"

"He's angry in general, Hermione. He knows he was out of bounds. Ron is clueless here. The war wasn't easy for anyone in the world, but he doesn't understand how to be around you."

"Because I'm not the same person. Because I'm not the person he fell in love with."

Harry sucked in a breath. While he may have expected this conversation, he was none too pleased to have it. "He had no right, Hermione. If he can say that, it's evident he never loved you at all."

"He's not wrong though. I'm not the same, but he treats me as if I'm something he can own. It makes me feel guilty. Mostly angry, because he doesn't get to be the victim here."

"Hermione," He held eye contact. "War changed you. That's okay. It didn't make you a completely different person. All it can do is scrape away layers, show you what's underneath. I'm not going to treat you like fine china, so just let me be honest."

Fuck.

"You're still you. If anyone, no matter how close they are to you, makes you feel guilty, they are not worth your time.. You're the strongest person I know. You were tortured by what might be the most insane witch in history, and  _you didn't give her any information._ You spit in her face." At the look on her face, he continued. "Malfoy told me after the trial. After Voldemort was dead, Lucius Malfoy went berserk, I know. I wish you could have seen how you looked. With you and Draco falling over each other, protecting the other, it's no wonder why Ron was jealous.

"That doesn't make it right. I don't believe for a second Malfoy would have switched sides if it weren't for you, Hermione. He was never evil, but he followed his family. And you," He gave her a pointed look. "Gave him a reason to fight. Whatever his reasoning was, he defected from the death eaters to save you. My point here is that you've got a shit ton of people who care about your wellbeing."

"He was nice to me last night." She said. "He asked me what was wrong. I thought Malfoy would laugh."

"He's full of surprises." Harry replies "Try to stop avoiding us? Believe it or not, we really missed you."

"If Ron is willing to be civil, I'll stop avoiding you. And I will try to be more open. With you, not Ron." She clarified. "I'm not there with him yet."

"You don't have to be and you don't have to be civil with him either."

"I miss him as my friend, but not as my boyfriend." She turned out of his arm to face him. "Does that make me a bad person?"

"You can't help who you love or don't love."

She groaned. "But he thinks...that we will get back together. I don't feel that way anymore. I don't want to hurt him anymore than I already have."

"You can't make him happy if you're making yourself miserable. Put yourself first, Hermione. You never do." That was the last thing she wanted to do. It felt so selfish. "Come back with me to the common room?"

Back to Harry and Ron, and likely Ginny. She was caught in between her close and friend and her older brother. Between a rock and a hard place. "Don't you think that will cause more damage than good?"

"It always gets worse before it gets better." He offered the whimsical advice, and she knew very well it was a well placed bluff. Harry knew words carried so much power with her. "Or maybe these could be your first steps."

"Towards?"

"Whatever you want."

* * *

Ron wasn't in her face. In fact, he didn't even look her way and she knew exactly why. Seeing Lavender Brown curled up in his lap, her face nuzzled in his neck didn't make her feel anything. It was only such a short while ago, she'd have been green with envy. But now, she let herself hope Ron was actually happy with her. She hoped like hell this wasn't to make her jealous.

She sat with her legs crossed in the floor, right beside Harry. From the moment they stepped through the Fat Lady's portrait, he'd stayed close. His expressions were always so easy to read. And his furrowed brow everytime he heard whispers between Ron and Lavender let her know he didn't know about them.

"How were your quidditch tryouts this morning?" She asked, stealing a chocolate frog from the table.

"You should have seen the new players!" Ginny gushed. "I know you hate quidditch, but even you would have been impressed." Hermione hummed in reply, enjoying the way her face lit up. "How is your new dorm?"

"Oh, it's great." A small smile settled on her face. The room was fantastic, and even though remaining in her bedroom was too isolated for her, she adored the quaint common room she and Malfoy shared. "I don't like staying in my room by myself, but the dormitory is very nice."

"Not to change the subject, but what's this we heard about you threatening to dock Gryffindor points earlier?" Seamus calls from the closest couch. "Scared the shit out of that girl."

"Some third years were gossiping in the library about Malfoy, and myself. I put an end to it." She gave a shrug. "She was mouthy and I didn't appreciate it."

"What do you mean gossipping about you and Malfoy? What do the two of you have in common? Ron asked, pulling away from Lavender.

"We share a dormitory." She replied, pulling her legs to her chest. "People were bound to talk about us. Especially after the Battle of Hogwarts." Sometimes she forgot that her peers didn't think of that day as often as she. They didn't analyze everything, down to that last second. "It was nothing." The conversation ended there with just the look from Harry. It was a lie. It was something. Hermione had enjoyed talking to Malfoy during their short walk from the library. Until she fled like a bat out of hell.

"I'm going to go to the library." Hermione said after moments of awkward silence. "I'll see you all at dinner?"

"Sounds great."

* * *

Hermione did enter the Great Hall to eat dinner with her friends like she'd promised. It was becoming a habit, a bad habit, to see if Malfoy was in the same room when she entered. She chalked it up to the events earlier, but that was an excuse.

The place at the table beside Blaise was empty. She'd been in their common room since the tryouts ended, and she just knew he wasn't out socializing. It was only a hunch, but it was enough to make her turn on her heel and exit the hall.

She sprinted down the hallway, thankful she wasn't in robes. The hallways were deserted, void of professors and students. Hermione threw the door open, rushing towards the boys' locker room.

If he were only taking a shower, she was going to die of embarrassment. Godric help her then.

Nights at Hogwarts always stole her breath away. The sight of the stars, and the castle's outline against the indigo sky.

Taking a deep breath, she wrenched the door open and stepped inside. If he  _were_ taking a shower, he was showering in the dark. Fuck, she was just anxious over anything. Draco had probably left hours ago. He was who knows where, doing who knows what and she was in the boys' locker room on the minimalistic chance his psychotic father had infiltrated Hogwarts.

Something slammed into her throat. Her sensibilities failed as a horrid scream tore from her throat. Bloody fuck, she couldn't reach her wand! Hermione raked her nails over any patch of skin she could find in the darkness.

"Holy shit.  _Lumos._ " Malfoy growled out, illuminating the small space between them. "Granger." He breathed, dropping his forearm from her throat. His wand clattered to the tile floor as he let her slide down the wall, guiding her to the floor.

"I would have killed you." She snapped. "What the fuck were you thinking attacking me in the dark like that!"

Blood oozed out of the gashes her nails had caused. There was one long gash leading from his chin down his neck. "You were scared earlier. I was checking it out." He closed his eyes, hiding the emotion in them.

"In the fucking dark." She said flatly.

"I couldn't risk anyone seeing the spells I cast. They're the only ones I could use to locate him and McGonagall would have to expel me. I'm so fucking sorry. I didn't know it was you."

"I'd fucking hope you didn't know." She covered her face with shaky hands.

"Don't cry." He whispered. "I thought it was my father you saw and if there was even a chance he was there, I needed to find him."

"It was." She said, her entire body wracking his sobs. "I thought I saw him in black robes and a death eater mask. When you pinned me to the wall, I remembered the last time he got so close to me." He knelt in front of her, his hands folded in his lap. She saw his eyes dance in sorrow as she hyperventilated. "I thought I was going to die."

"You're not going to die." What else could he say?

"Sometimes I wish I would." She looked at him, feeling her heart constrict when she saw his eyes. She'd always thought they were pretty. It was too easy to fall into them, but right this second he was staring at her in horror.

"Hermione," He caught her hand, lacing his fingers through her own. "I'm glad you're here."

"Why my first name?"

He sighed, running his hand through his hair. "It's the best way to make you realize I'm serious. I'm a selfish bastard, and I'm glad you're here."

"I'm not particularly happy I was right here, right now." He chuckled. "Do you worry about him coming for you?"

"I worry about him hurting people around me. He's already done his damage on me." He shrugged. "You were scared; that was enough for me."

"Another icy layer melts away." She smiled. Everytime he was around, she noticed those smiles were more genuine than the smiles she gave her friends of six years.

"Why were you here, Granger? Worried about me?" He smirked. It was unnerving how close he was to her. Not in the way she felt towards Ron, over the summer, which was the only thing she could compare this to. More like...in the way that he made her stomach flip in excitement.

"I was worried." She admitted. "I had a gut feeling when I saw you weren't at dinner, so I left and came straight here. Of course I thought I was wrong and I was just acting crazy. Then I thought I could have over analyzed the situation and you were just taking a shower."

His rough laugh echoed through the room. "That would have been bloody awkward."

"I would have obliviated myself." She grinned, gently untangling their entwined fingers. "You would never let me live that down."

"But you came anyways. Are you sure you didn't want to stumble on me naked in the shower, Granger?"

Her cheeks heated up. "Quite sure." She mumbled. "We're going to cause quite the scene showing up late together."

"Shagging sounds like a good cover up for investigating nothing with illegal magic." She shook her head violently. "Relax, I'm only joking."

"Obviously you're kidding." She rolled her eyes. "We should go to dinner. I've been gone so long and it's only a matter of time before Harry comes to find me." He stood, pulling her along with him. Draco shoved his hands in his pockets after retrieving his wand. "This still doesn't change anything."

There was a long pause before he replied quietly. "I know."

It was a lie. It was just another elephant in the room between them. Tonight had changed everything, and the night wasn't nearly over.


	6. Chapter Six

Draco had already cast the silencing charm when the metal door leading into the locker room was slammed into the outside wall of the building. His lips twisted into a cruel smile; he hadn't been wrong. From where he was leaned against the wall, he could barely make out the silhouette of the person.

Two steps and they were directly in front of him. Malfoy threw his forearm, bracing against their throat to block the airway. He walked them backwards, pinning them to the freezing tile wall. Nails were tearing his skin away. But the scream that ripped through the darkness was one he would have recognized anywhere.

"Holy shit. Lumos." His voice caught in his throat as he took her in. Her hair was coming undone from her ponytail, her fingers still dug into his forearm that was still at her throat. "Granger." In one moment, his wand slipped from his grasp as he used both hand to lower her to the floor by her hips.

"I would have fucking killed you." He squeezed his eyes shut. "What the fuck were you thinking attacking me in the dark like that?" Her eyes trailed over the wounds she'd inflicted with those nails. He was aware of the blood dripping from a cut on his neck, sliding beneath the collar of his shirt.

"You were frightened earlier." His shoulders sagged. "I was checking it out for you."

"In the fucking dark." She glared at him.

There wasn't a spot on any scale for just how badly he'd just fucked up. In his attempt to help her, he'd attacked her as if she were his father. It would have been so much easier if it had been Lucius. "I couldn't risk anyone seeing the spells I cast. They're the only ones I could use to locate him and McGonagall would have had to expel me. I'm so fucking sorry. I didn't know it was you."

His brain was riddled with different responses. How could he get that look off of her face. Hermione had put a mask in place right when this world went to shit, and made her way through not entirely unscathed. To think he had believed it would be enough for him if he could save her life. To think he could go the rest of the life hunting his father if she was okay.

She wasn't okay at all. Her mask had fallen away and he saw her. She looked so broken curled before him.

"I'd fucking hope you didn't know." Whether she'd been blissfully unaware that she was still clutching his arms as if he were a lifeline, he didn't know. But she finally let go to cover her face as her eyes watered. He wanted to reach out and steady her hands, if only to stop them from trembling.

"Don't cry." He sat in the floor before her, crossing his legs and resting his hands in his lap. It felt out of bounds, but he had the strongest urge to pull her into his lap. But he wasn't so lucky to have that opportunity. "I thought it was my father you saw. I needed to know."

"It was." She gasped, hand flying to her chest as if her heart had constricted so painfully. "I thought I saw him in black robes and a death eater mask. When you pinned me to the wall," Her breathing only came shorter and shorter. "I remembered the last time he was so close and I thought I was going to die."

"You're not going to die." He told her, wishing he could leave Hogwarts. He'd find his bastard father and put him down like the animal he'd become. Seeing Hermione hyperventilate because she thought Lucius could still hurt her made him sick. Draco was breaths away from telling her how he would never let anyone hurt her, but she cut him off with a weak voice.

"Sometimes I wish I would." His blood froze in his veins, feeling more like ice. It were as if his heart was slamming into the inside of his rib cage. Horror overtook his features and he nearly stormed out to find Potter and Weasley. To find someone she knew, someone who might be able to help her erase those dangerous thoughts from her brain. That someone wasn't him.

Regardless of the painful truth, he reached forward, lacing his fingers through her own. She was warm, just like he'd imagined. "Hermione, I'm glad you're here." But she already knew that, didn't she?

"Why my first name?"

He could have laughed at the sheer naivety in her eyes. "It's the best way to make you know I' serious. I'm a selfish bastard and I'm glad you're here."

"I'm not particularly glad I'm here right now." He chuckled. "Do you worry about coming for you?"

He shook his head. "I worry about him hurting those around me. He's already done his damaged on me. You were scared; that was enough for me."

"Another icy layer melts away." She says with a smile.

Quick the change the subject, Draco smirked, returning to a familiar thought he hadn't quite had the time to entertain due to her sudden breakdown. "Why were you here, Granger? Worried about me?" She looked just as relieved as he was to be rid of the previous topic.

"I was worried." She confessed. "I just had a gut feeling when I saw you weren't at dinner, so I left and came straight course I thought I was wrong and that I was acting crazy. Then I thought I had over analyzed the situation and you were just taking a shower."

He laughed loud. That was definitely enough to let the tension out of the room. "That would have been bloody awkward."

"I would have obliviated myself." She grinned at him, untangling their fingers. "You'd have never let me live it down."

"But you came anyways. "Are you sure you didn't want to stumble onto me naked in the shower, Granger?" Blush pooled in her cheeks, even on her neck and he wondered if how far down her blush went.

"Quite sure. We're going to cause quite the scene showing up late together."

"Shagging sounds like a good cover up for investigating nothing with illegal magic." He offered, watching in amusement as her mouth fell open and she shook her head. "Relax, I'm only kidding."

"Obviously you're kidding." She rolled her eyes. "We should go to dinner. I've been gone so long and it's only a matter of time before Harry comes to find me." He stood, pulling her along with him. "This still doesn't change anything." She said, repeating his earlier words.

"I know."

"Before we go," She spoke, pulling his collar down, accidentally popping the top button off his shirt. "Let me heal you. The rumors will already be awful, don't you think? I wouldn't want anyone spreading rumors about me being too rough, now would I?" She laughed when his eyes widened. "It's a joke, Malfoy. I can make those as well."

"Color me shocked." He replied, as she casting a healing spell on his neck.

"I am terribly sorry for attacking you like a rabid animal." She told him, pocketing her wand. "But you deserved it at least the tiniest bit."

"I'll agree."

They walked along the winding pathway. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her jacket, stealing glances when she thought he wasn't looking. "Granger, if you really don't want to give everyone the impression we were shagging, you should fix that rat's nest you call hair."

"Is this what you would call post sex hair?"

""Only if you've just been shagged up against a wall." Like hell she was about to make him nervous with her innuendos.

"I've seen my hair after that, and I'd say this isn't it." She replied nonchalantly. "Cat got your tongue?"

"There are many sides to you I've never seen, Granger. I don't think I even know you."

"I feel that way too sometimes." She opened the door to the castle, stepping across the entrance. "Harry told me to to be myself. Guess this is it." He didn't respond, didn't offer his thoughts of how she'd thrown him for a loop.

Both their Slytherin and Gryffindor friends looked at them as the door opened, their stares lingering. Harry nodded to her. But his friends were giving him that fucking look. Before he could even think that she quite possibly could punch him in the face, he caught her arm as she turned away. She turned back to face him.

"Malfoy?"

He leaned down to whisper in her ear, where the Ravenclaws just a few feet away wouldn't hear him. "Do you happen to have more Firewhiskey?"

He was rewarded with a genuine grin from her. "Indeed I do, Malfoy."

"I'm going to need it." Her laugh was soft. "After patrols." And then they separated, making their way to their houses.

"You finally tell her?" Theo asked, wearing a shit eating grin. "I knew you would."

"I didn't tell Granger shit, Nott." He growled.

"So testy. It's okay. I will tell her for you."

"Shut the fuck up."

—-

"You're in better spirits than last week." He remarked as the made their way through dusty corridors on patrol a week later. He had not seen her drink once, besides after the events of the locker room. "What changed?"

"Harry sat me down and goaded me into talking. I've been avoiding them since the beginning of the term."

"Still angry with Weasley?"

She shook her head. "It's better than it was, but I don't think he's let go of our breakup." In the last week, she'd taken to putting her hair up in a messy bun on the top of her head. It looked utterly ridiculous, he'd first thought. Apparently everything she did would eventually grow on him, down to her frizzy hair.

"Has he mentioned that?"

"Not to my face, obviously. Lavender is rather loud with her opinions, and Ron just goes along with them."

"She's insulting you?" He asks.

Hermione nods. "That's a tame way of putting it, but yes. Lavender likes to bring up my past relationships to throw in my face. In the common room earlier, she called me a Death Eater's slut and Ron wasn't eager to defend me."

She stared at the way his hands curled into fists at his sides. "What the fuck is her problem?" Hermione shook her head.

"As if I know, but she's been particularly nasty towards me. Maybe she just thinks I'm a threat to her."

"Right, because as she knows that redheaded idiot would come crawling back to you if you wanted him." He sneered.

"I don't want him." There was a sad lilt in her voice, but she'd made her choices. "Not like that, ever again."

Malfoy gave a sharp nod. "He hurt you, didn't he? Badly." She nodded. "Beyond just trying to rush you?"

"Beyond that."

"If you ever need him to, say, get roughed up in an alley on a weekend in Hogsmeade.." He trailed off, smirking down at her. "Let me know, Granger."

She giggled. "I'll fight my own battles, Malfoy. Thanks for always listening to me whine." She patted him on the shoulder.

"I am the best." He tells her, but then his eyes jerk to the corridor before them. "What are you doing out after bedtime?"

"Are you alright?" Hermione asks.

He was a first year, with a heavy bag of books weighing down on his shoulders. His cheeks were flushed, eyes still blown open like doors as if he'd just had the biggest shock of his life. "Yes, Miss Granger. I'm alright." He mumbled, staring down at his shoes. "I'm not sure if it's important to you, but are you dating Ron Weasley still?"

Taken aback, she responded. "No, I am not. Why?"

"I saw him in the library with someone; I didn't see who. But they were making weird sounds and,"

Draco cut him off with a very amused look on his face. "What kind of sounds? Could you imitate it for us?"

"Malfoy!" She snapped. Hearing the first year before her make a sound that was weird cross between a moan and a shriek made her cough on her laugh. "Please return to bed."

Malfoy waited until the boy turned the corner where he would not be able to hear them. "So that's what Lavender sounds like during sex, interesting." She rolled her eyes. "She sounds like a banshee."

She snickered. "I'm going to kill Ron. That poor boy looked horrified."

Malfoy shrugged. "Shall we go break up their shag fest?"

Her nose crinkled. "Ew, don't ever say that again."

She slipped under his arm as he opened the door to the library. "Restricted section." He whispered, walking in front of her.

"Oh my god." She hissed as a shriek pierced the air. "We would have found them anyways since she sounds like a goddamn dying animal." He chuckled.

"Your face is so red, Granger."

"Oh shut up!"

"Is this how you lose your virtue?" He teased. "Catching someone in the act?"

"As if, Malfoy." She turned her nose up, and stalked between the aisles of books. "I'm not discussing my sexual escapades to you just to prove a point."

"Or lack there of." He corrected.

"Fuck off, Draco."

"Oh, it's Draco now?"

"Yes. I have it on good authority it drives you crazy." She flashed him a smirk she'd learned from him.

"Whose authority?"

"Theo." She quipped and he cursed under his breath. That prick couldn't mind his own business, ever. "Shut up." She whispered, motioning around the corner. "That sounds disgusting." She muttered, rounding the corner. "Ron." She snapped. "I don't care about your extracurricular activities, but a first year caught you. Found us." She motioned between Draco and herself.

"Sod off, Hermione. Don't act like you've never shagged in the restricted section." He snapped, still buried deep inside Lavender. She straddled his waist, her bare back facing them. Their school uniforms were scattered across the floor.

"Actually, since you wanted to bring that on yourself, I've never shagged in the library. We did do it in the Slytherin Common Room once though." Draco froze beside her, hearing the news he'd heard before, but he'd never found out who Hermione had been with.

Lavender rolled her hips against Ron, flinging a triumphant smirk over her shoulder. "Get dressed." Draco drawled. "Return to your dorms."

"Sod off, Malfoy." Ron said and from what they could see, ran his hands up her stomach before grasping her breasts in his hands.

"Weasel, I'm sure you love thinking this is making Hermione jealous. But all you're doing is making her angrier. By all means, keep going. I'd love nothing more than to see her tear you apart."

Hermione huffed beside him, folding her arms over her chest. Lavender grinded against his erection one last time before sliding off of him and collecting her skirt from the floor. "See something you like, Death Eater?" She sneered.

"I'll let you know if I figure out what I'm looking at. Kind of look like a boy with such a flat chest." Malfoy replied calmly. "And, Granger. I think you lucked out on falling out of love with Weasley here. He doesn't have much to offer anyways." She recognized that cruel glint in his eyes. Something that might have sent her running a few years back, but now she saw too much of that in herself. "McGonagall will need to see you both in the morning." He finished.

"Mione." Ron exclaimed, yanking his pants to his waist.

"What do you expect me to do, Ron? Be your friend and help you out? Where have you been while she belittles me? You've been laughing at me with her."

"It's not," He starts, but is only cut off.

"It's not like that?" Hermione says. "I've heard that line. It's exactly like that. You found someone who is willing to let you bury your cock in them, and you don't care who you hurt."

"Ron doesn't care about you anymore." Lavender declared, twisting a tie around her fist. "You broke his heart by comparing him to being tortured." She spat. "You're just soaking up the attention you get from your death eater friend here, and the sympathy of everyone else."

"Malfoy, you're going to have to take me to the headmistress as well."

"Granger." He tried to reel her in, grapple her by her arms, but she was already in front of Lavender. The other girl's back hit the shelf so hard books toppled from the shelves, one falling right on the top of her head.

"I will tell you one time, and only one time." Hermione hissed, her voice barely a whisper. She had Lavender's shirt curled up in her fist. "You are not special. He chose me over you, lest you forget. And he crawled between your legs, because I wouldn't open mine. Do not fucking speak." She pulled her body forward and slammed her backwards again, emphasizing her words. "And if you're so special, and you claim he cares so much about you, riddle me this. Why didn't he stop me as soon as I grabbed you?" Hermione released her then.

"You're a psychotic bitch." Lavender gasps.

Hermione didn't look back at her as she tugged on Malfoy's forearm. "Let's go." She told him. He was stunned by her outburst, how quickly her calm demeanor has dissipated. They left just as Ron was trying to explain how yes, he truly did care to Lavender.

"Hey, Draco?" She asked, shoving her hands in the pockets of her jacket.

"Yes?" He didn't mention her using his given name. 

"I need a drink." She declared, grinning ear to ear when he chuckled and agreed.

And so her weeklong sobriety ended.


	7. Chapter Seven

Hermione snuck out into their common room long after Malfoy had gone to his bedroom. They had shared a firewhiskey bottle like they had done a handful of times before, while she goaded him about a drinking contest.

It was easy to breathe around him. It was easy to laugh, to come alive in those moments where he grinned. It was a fucked situation. There was no one in the world she could talk it over with, since the only other person who knew was asleep in an adjoining bedroom. She frequently pushed it from her mind, but with the sensation of being drunk, she always lets her thoughts run too rampant.

During the Battle of Hogwarts, he'd saved her life from his father by side apparating them into the castle ruins. (The anti apparition wards had been damaged amidst the chaos.) That was a fact. It had been in the papers, but that god awful Rita Skeeter hit the nail right on the head. The real mystery wasn't why Hermione served as an unwanted witness in his trial. It was why had he saved her in the first place? What made him switch sides so late into the war? At the last possible second? Could the reason be one Hermione Granger?

She shuddered.

She knew the answer. It was her. It had taken time to convince herself she wasn't conceited. Facts had to be accepted. She sipped on her drink, eyeing his bedroom door.

In their sixth year, he stared. Then he stopped calling her mudblood, a tidbit she had pointed out immediately and he had quickly taken to calling her any racial slur he could think of in the heat of the moment. In an effort to hide his feelings, and keep her from being killed due to something he had no control over, he made her hate him.

One particular memory stood out when she reminisced now; it had fallen into place after the war, after their meeting from within the Chamber of Secrets before Harry faced Voldemort. Professor Snape had still been alive. In their potions class, they brewed Amortentia. It was Theo who had told her the night before to watch Draco's face as he smelled the love potion for the first time.

So she did, and for the first time Draco Malfoy looked at her as if he were seeing her instead of seeing through her for the first time. It had sent a chill down her spine, not unpleasant, just unnerving. As his eyes opened from smelling the potion, his eyes sought her out. And she realized he was not all he had seemed.

That while Harry was slapped with the label as The Boy Who Lived, she saw Draco as another side of the same coin. Someone who had no choice but to play by the rules of survival. Survival of the fittest. It was a relief to hear from Harry that he could not kill Dumbledore, something she didn't know if he'd have come back from.

And if her closest friends had known what she were thinking about their supposed enemies, she knew they would never understand.

She always got ahead of her thoughts when she drank. Upon the realization that Draco Malfoy may or may not have had minor feelings for her at the least, she broke off the relationship with Theo. Those two were best friends for God's sake. Theo made in crystal clear that he'd housed his suspicions, but did not definitely, and was sure that was Draco's aim.

She didn't know he would mean anything to her in the future. All she could think was if their insane suspicions were right, it had to end. It wasn't a relationship really. More of a mutual agreement where they both received something in return. He was one of her closest friends, right up there with Harry and Ron and Ginny.

The war had ripped them apart. Suddenly torn from the secret friendships she'd had with Blaise, Pansy and Theo to keep them safe. Their parents were death eaters. For them to know could mean the difference between life and death. They owled during the war when they could. But Theo always told her about Draco, for whatever his reasons were. Those parts of the letters always erased themselves after being read.

It made him human. Something she didn't need. She could barely salvage her own thoughts, much less when  _he_  was in them. She didn't know him. He was still the same arsehole she'd known for years, the same prick she decked in third year.

And then, all of a sudden, he managed to take her by surprise. As she'd been dragged into the drawing room of Malfoy Manor, she met his eyes. Her eyes stayed on him as Bellatrix carved into her skin. She desperately wanted to call out to him, but the extent of the torture would have never allowed that. Without any kind of explanation, she wanted to wipe that guilty look off his face. To tell him, "I know why you have to do this."

She'd learned what it meant to make hard choices. She'd learned what it meant to be in the situation where it was her or them. Harry or them. A choice she'd removed her emotions from and made the calculated decision. Even in a dystopian world, she had choices. Perhaps not the ones she thought she would have to make upon her entry to Hogwarts as wide eyes eleven year old. But they were choices and no one could take that from her.

Hermione could still feel how her heart felt like it might give out as he walked away from her, sprawled as if she were broken in the floor. It happened fast, Ron and Harry pounding up the stairs. Suddenly Dobby was there. And in the chaos the death eaters scattered from the room she laid in. Bellatrix fled as a familiar green light was hurled at her.

He'd flung the killing curse at his deranged aunt, hidden from Bellatrix's eyes, like it was child's play and she nodded to him. She told him to stay alive, and that she needed to talk to him when it was over. He shook his head, disappearing before Harry and Ron entered the drawing room.

And so, Draco Malfoy saved her from an uncertain death in his childhood home. He may not have killed Lestrange, but she knew very well that he would have. She'd made those choice for Ron or Harry, who were her family. But him, she dwelled. They had never had a civil conversation. And he'd just nearly murdered his own blood to save her life and whatever that meant, she wasn't sure, but it meant something.

As soon as she saw Narcissa fighting a fight that could not be won against Lucius, she threw herself into it, sneaking away from the group. And she released Draco from his body bind curse because she had placed blind faith in him to not kill her.

She still couldn't decide if that was brave or stupid.

The fucking Chamber of Secrets is really what ruined everything. He was no longer the monster she'd created in her head some time ago. Hours earlier, he'd saved her life for the second time, a fact that she could not push out of her head. He'd told her he wanted her to live and that's all he'd wanted.

Ron had kissed her for the first time there. It was underwhelming, and she'd felt so guilty. The way he pulled away with the look in his eyes. A promise of devotion. A promise she'd already broken. It could have been so easy. Childhood sweethearts.

Down there, where it was dark, she could have missed him standing in the shadows. She wasn't totally sure even now what possessed her to intentionally lose her friends so she could return to the nook in the wall where he was hiding.

" _What are you doing down here? Are you following me?" She asked, hiding herself in the indention in the wall with him._

" _I'm probably going to die." He told her calmly. "As soon as we're out there, Potter is going to win. Good. But on the likely chance I die out there, there's something I need to do."_

" _Draco." She said his name, aware of how he was leaned down to her. "Can you tell me the truth right now?"_

" _I think you know, Granger."_

The moment that followed was the highest her emotions had ever been during the war. The happiest she had been, even as it felt like the ultimate betrayal. He'd kissed her like he was about to die. Tears burned her eyes as she shoved her hands into his hair, pulling him closer into her as if they might just stay in this little pocket, hidden away from the atrocities of the war. Draco possessed the ability to kiss her like he'd kissed her before, and as if he would kiss her tomorrow just as well. She remembered when he pulled away, she tugged him back to her lips. Only to lose him again.

She remembered that feeling all too well, and the feeling after where he told her to be with Ron, to have that life she'd always wanted. Marriage, kids, ministry job. It was a pity she never told him that wasn't what she wanted anymore.

Not even close. Draco Malfoy was undoubtedly dangerous; she'd seen it up close. Narcissa did write to the young gryffindor throughout the summer, detailing the horrors he'd inflicted. She thanked Hermione for understanding, and apologized for the reason she understood. Hermione told Narcissa that she appreciated her kind words, but she was no friend of her son's and she did not need to supply updates of his day to day health.

After seeing him in that run down pub, she had to run. She'd have humiliated herself had she stayed there. His eyes always softened when he looked at her, and she couldn't ignore it now. So they avoided the subject, dancing around a fire that was sure to expand and burn them eventually.

Damn it all, that kiss would not leave her brain. They had not spoken in months, not even after his trial. The moment she ran smack dab into his chest in the pub, she knew it was him. The smell of sweat, cologne and firewhiskey. She'd bloody well known the gray eyes that were peering down at her.

She cursed as she dropped the bottle and it smashed against the floor. Well, if he hadn't been awake before, he should be now. "Can't you shut up?" He grumbled a second later, his door creaking open. "Drinking without me, Granger?" He arched an eyebrow.

She'd drank far too much and she knew it. "Draco." She addressed, eyes roaming over him. "Should probably put a shirt on. Might make me faint." She smirked at the look on his face. "Sorry to wake you."

"What is that? Is that the muggle stuff?" She nodded, climbing to her feet and immediately swayed.

"You're right. It does appear to be stronger than firewhiskey. It fucked you up." She shrugged. "What the hell are you wearing anyways? Muggle clothes?"

It was the vodka talking, not her. Because if she were in her right state of mind, she would definitely not be flirting with him. He made his choice. A random kiss in the middle of a goddamned battle did not make anything. "They're called leggings. Makes my arse look good."

Slowly he turned a finger in the air, telling her to turn for him. That lazy smirk was planted on his face, and she couldn't look away. "I'm afraid I can't take your word for it, Granger. Better let me the judge of that."

She threw her head back letting out a loud laugh. "I shouldn't have said that. Go back to bed. I'll clean this up." She knelt down to the floor, scooping up the fractured shards in her hands.

"Stop." He snapped, walking to her. "Use your wand." He sighed as a hiss passed her lips. "Give it here. Let me get the glass out." Draco didn't wait for her to listen, instead taking her hand and removing the glass. "There. Go get your wand, idiot. You're a bloody witch."

"I was a mudblood first." She snapped in a bout of rage, and immediately regretted it. She didn't need to make eye contact to know he was upset with her. It was in the way his breathing changed, right next to her ear. "I'm sorry. I was upset and I snapped at you."

"You're apologizing to me? You should apologize to yourself, Granger." His voice was very soft as he waved his wand to vanish the mess she'd made. "Anyone ever tell you you're an animal? Who drinks so much and doesn't die?" He chuckled.

"Maybe I'm a cat and have nine lives." She offered weakly, her stomach doing a flip as he smiled. "I should probably go to sleep, I suppose." Draco stood with her and her legs shook. "I'm fine. Just maybe a bit dizzy."

"I'll help you to your room." He told her, taking one of her arms and slinging it over his shoulder. "Are you alright, Hermione? I don't meant the alcohol. I'm talking about you."

"No, I'm not alright." She breathed as he led her across the room to her door. "Oh no." She muttered, her eyebrows furrowing together. She slumped into the curve of his body. As it was, he was crouched down to not strain her arm. "Can you lead me to the couch? It seems I have forgotten my bloody password."

His body shook against her as he laughed. "You're a real piece of work." He chuckles. "Come on." Without warning, he swung her up into his arms and carried her across the room quicker than he could have led her. "Snitch." He mumbled the password and stepped into his room.

"Original."

"Shut up." He tossed her onto his bed, not completely rough. She gave a laugh as she bounced on her landing.

"If you thinking you're going to have your wicked way with me, Malfoy." She joked.

He rolled his eyes at her, arms folded across his bare chest once more. "I promise if I am ever going to have my wicked way with you, you will know." A blush rose up on her cheeks. "Sleep in here. I'll be on the couch. Try not to maul me when you wake up and think I've shagged you."

The door shut behind him and she knew good and well. She was fucked when it came to him, and they were only three weeks into their term.


	8. Chapter Eight

Sitting at the Gryffindor table the next morning proved to be uncomfortable. Ron couldn't make eye contact with Hermione. Lavender spoke loudly, claiming Hermione was just a jealous ex-girlfriend with regrets. Harry sat on one side of her, trying his best to include her in small talk with their friends.

"I'm sorry for last night." Ron reached across the table to cover her hand with his own. "It wasn't my intention to make you uncomfortable." She swallowed.

"I wasn't uncomfortable with your relationship." She said slowly, closing her book with her free hand. "I really couldn't care less about who you shag in your free time. That's not my business anymore." Hermione folded her hands in her lap, wary of all their classmates who were listening. "I want to remain friends, Ron, but that isn't possible if you let your girlfriend harass me."

"Another chance?" He asked quietly. She shook her head. "Are you leaving?" She slung the strap of her bag over her shoulder.

"I'm sorry, really I am, that we didn't work out. I need some space. I'll see you in classes today." She stood from the bench, grabbing two pieces of toast. Harry squeezed her shoulder. "I'll see you guys later."

At the Slytherin table, her friends, along with Malfoy watched her walk to the double doors. She nodded to them, opening the massive wooden door just enough to let her slip through. The entire school was silent this early in the morning, but in a handful of minutes, hundreds of students would be rushing for their first classes.

The memories she held from within the castle made her nostalgic, recognizing that stairwell as the place Krum had kissed her. Or the bathroom where she'd become friends with Ron and Harry for knocking a mountain troll unconscious. Six years of beautiful memories, and she could only feel bittersweet as she passed them by.

She absently pondered the idea that returning to Hogwarts hadn't been the right idea. That while it was her home, perhaps she didn't deserve a home after all she'd done. The girl she had been felt like a stranger. She could remember staying up all hours of the nights to study, and sometimes to sneak out with her friends.

However that Hermione Granger was not the same women she saw in the bathroom mirror. It was hard to come back, to see the faces of the children of death eaters. Not because it made them guilty by association. It was quite the opposite. Seeing the children here made her feel even gutted than she already did.

There were some of the lower years who looked at her with stars in their eyes, the same way they looked at anyone who was a member of Dumbledore's army. They looked at her as the war heroine, but she felt as if she were anything but.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Pansy took a seat beside her on the steps. "Draco told us what happened in the library last night." Hermione nodded.

"It's not about that." She said. "But no, I don't want to talk about anything." Pansy, rested her arms across her knees.

"How are your parents? Any improvement?"

"Not yet. St. Mungos isn't hopeful they will ever remember me. Besides that though, they're enjoying their lives in Australia."

"I'm sorry."

Hermione shrugged. "Sometimes I think it's for the best they don't remember. I'm not the same daughter they would remember anyways now. I think it would be harder all around if they regained their memories right now. They always read The Prophet to make an effort in my life, and if they were to read the articles about me now, I just,"

"Stop. Take a deep breath." Pansy cut her off. Hermione sucked in a shaky breath. "If they were able to read the articles about you, hypothetically, they would be proud of you. And they would be happy you're alive. Like you said at Draco's trial, you did what you had to in order to survive. You're not a monster."

"Maybe you have to be a monster in order to kill another monster." Hermione said quietly. "Draco said that to me when Lucius ambushed us."

"What did you say?"

"I told him he wasn't his father." Her voice trembled, as the halls began to fill with voices. "And then that was the last time I saw him until we returned to Hogwarts."

"Have you talked about his father?" Hermione shook her head, scooting out of the way as a group of fourth years climbed the stairs.

"We're not close."

"Hermione, I don't think you two can go through what you've gone through together and not be friends at least." She sighed, remembering something. That there were some things you couldn't go through without liking each other. One of those instances being knocking out a twelve foot mountain troll. Apparently the other was fighting for your lives together as if you hadn't been enemies for years.

"You might be right." Hermione agreed reluctantly. "But I will never admit that. I'll see you later." Pansy nodded, taking the other girl's hand to help her to her feet.

Professor Slughorn's classroom was a circus as she stepped inside, dodging a paper airplane from the back of the room. She settled in her seat beside Harry, and pulled her Potions textbook from her bag. "Did you have any problems with the essay?" She asked Harry, pulling the parchment from the bag.

"What essay?"

"Oh, honestly, Harry." She rolled her eyes. "Is this just a blow off year for you since you've already been accepted into the auror training?" He laughed.

"Not at all. Did we really have an essay?" She nods.

"That's alright." Theo smacked Harry on the back. "He can tell Slughorn how he saved the Wizarding World and get another day, right?" She smiled. "Why are you late?" Malfoy pulled the chair beside Theo back, and dropped his bag to the ground roughly. There was a scowl on his face.

"Floo call." Malfoy was curt with them. "Ministry." He spoke directly to Hermione, and she could only nod.

"Is everything alright?" She asked quietly.

"Lucius attempted to enter the Manor this morning. Mother called for help." His mouth is set in a grim line, but his eyes softened at the mention of Narcissa. "She's safe." He told her, reaching into his bag. "She sent this for you this morning." Draco handed her a yellow envelope, stamped on the back with the Malfoy seal.

"Oh. Thank you. I'm happy to hear she is safe. Is he able to enter Malfoy Manor?" She tried to stop it, she really did. At the mention of Malfoy Manor, despite it being her doing, a shudder went through her. Her shoulders jerked and Draco's hand curled into a tight fist.

"Apparently so." He grumbled. "Mother was able to ward one room to get away, but the Manor still recognizes him as the head of family." Just as she was about to ask if he were there for Narcissa, or something else, he snapped. "Don't talk."

"Hermione." She turned very slowly in her seat, Draco's fist had not yet relaxed and he was glaring above her head. "Can I get your help?" Parchment rolled out from his hand. She sighed.

"Can't your girlfriend help you?" Draco sneered. "If you'd been working in the library instead of shagging, you wouldn't need any help." The last place she wanted to sit was in in the middle of an argument between them.

Ron's cheeks were red as he looked anywhere but at Hermione. "Mione?" If he was attempting to salvage what relationship they had left, it would hurt her to turn him away.

"Are you only speaking to me because you need help? If so, I'm afraid I'm unable to assist." Hermione's heart squeezed as his shoulders fell.

"No." He told her, yanking a seat from another table and sitting in front of her. Ron set his parchment on the table and took hold of both of her hands. It took her by surprise. His hands swallowed hers. "That's not the only reason."

She pulled her hands away and crossed them across her chest. He was  _still_ thinking of the wrong reasons. "I told you this morning. You can have another chance as my friend, but nothing more."

"I made a mistake."

"Several mistakes." Theo corrected with a wry smile. "You fucked yourself over, mate."

"I'll take the failing grade." Ron snapped then, shoving his chair back to where it came from and stormed over to Lavender. His newfound girlfriend ran her fingers through his red hair, pulling him into a kiss.

"Has Ginny talked to you?" Theo nudged Hermione's shoulder with his quill. She shook her head. "Well, princess, we have a surprise planned for you." She shook her head furiously, crossing her hands in front of her. Whatever her lot had planned, she was sure she wouldn't be up for the challenge. "I'm not asking you, I'm telling you."

"What did you do." She squeaked. If their prior years at Hogwarts left foreshadowed anything, her friends from the rivaling house proved to over do anything and everything, especially if Ginerva Weasley was involved. These plans of theirs typically involved copious amounts of alcohol, and she was, in fact, no stranger to these wild trysts that ranged from the Gryffindor common room to a cliff above the Great Lake to one uninhibited night in the Forbidden Forest.

That last one had been her own horrible idea, fueled by a sickening combination of jello shots, and firewhiskey. Two things that tasted so much worse coming back up.

"What did you do?" She asked again. "Theo, I swear on all that is holy, if you don't tell me." Her quill looked dangerous in her hand as she jabbed at him.

His hands shot up in surrender. "Your birthday is this weekend." His teeth showed as he smiled at her, taking the way her mouth parted in surprise. "Did you think we forgot? Honestly, Mione, I'm offended you would think so low of me."

She dropped her quill. "I wouldn't feel right to make a big deal about my birthday when there's so much," Harry cut her off, covering her mouth his hand. Dark brown hair swooped into his eyes as he shook his head at her, communicating in the silent language they were getting so good at. She huffed and began again. "What did you have planned?"

"Tsk, tsk, princess. You can't spoil your own surprises. You will just have to come to Hogsmeade this weekend and see for yourself." Malfoy stifled a laugh by covering his mouth with the back of his hand when her glare flipped between Theo and Harry.

She'd spent the last weekend in her own room, having changed the password to keep her friends out.

"Well, this just sounds like an awful idea." She growled as Professor Slughorn swept into the room, twenty minutes late.

"How lovely of him to grace us with his presence." Malfoy muttered, flipping his book open.

"You'll be there though?" Theo stopped her from turning as Slughorn started in with a story about a first year scuffle in the corridors. Hermione flinched at the contact, but didn't yank straight away.

She nodded at him. "I'll be there. You can't have a birthday party without the birthday girl, right?" At his grin she added, even if it was only to feel as adventurous as they had been in sixth year, "I'll help you make a list of alcohol later."

Malfoy might be the only one who was aware, but the undetectable extension charm on her second trunk most likely contained enough alcohol for this fiasco.

* * *

Hermione might have become friends with some Slytherins, but that wasn't to say the rest of them held with warm feelings. Which was why she meant Theo could join her for party planning later, possibly outside or even the Heads' common room. Definitely not the sodding snake pit at dinner, but that would have been better than the Gryffindor tables' disaster.

Ron was in the middle of an entertaining story detailing how their little trio, before they were so strained, knocked out a mountain troll to second years. She smiled at the irony of how she'd thought of this earlier. That's how they became friends, and here they sat awkwardly, two thirds of them trying to find a common ground. Not to mention the other third that was attempting to put out a fire without being consumed.

It gradually turned to recounting the last year they'd spent outside Hogwarts and she wasn't the least bit surprised. Her stomach twisted as Ron told war stories with such imagery she worried she'd vomit. It wasn't just a story when you lived it. And then he drove the last nail in his own coffin.

It was a question she didn't fault the first year who had asked from a space down the table. How could she? He was an eleven year old boy. "Did they," He looked to Hermione before continuing. "I'm muggleborn. Did they really kill muggleborns? Nobody lets me ask." With good reason, she thought.

Her eyes stung with the tears that burst forward. "They did." Ron ultimately said and he should have left there. "Hermione was tortured at Malfoy Manor." There was a collective gasp from their classmates. A Hufflepuff behind Ron whipped around to tell him where he could shove it. It was the nonchalant way he declared the fact.

Sure, the entirety of their world knew all about poor, goddamn Hermione Granger. How she wore long sleeves not because she was a prude, but because she had a constant brand that enraged her every time she peeled her clothes off.

"They may have killed muggleborns, but Hermione gave them a taste of their own medicine." Ron told the boy and his eyes widened in shock.

Bile rose in her throat and before she could control the urge, she threw up in the floor. She wheezed, flashes of eyes of the dead coming to her. Harry quickly waved his wand, vanishing the mess and from the corner of her right eye, she could see McGonagall coming to check on the Head Girl.

"You're a sick son of a bitch." She whispered, tears streaming down her face. "I didn't give anyone a taste of their own medicine. I made nine mistakes!" She screamed. Their Headmistress waved in the opposite direction, but she ignored it as quickly as she had noticed the fact. "I'm not a hero." She hissed, feeling fingers encircle her wrist gently. Blaise had come to her side first, but she knew the others would be there for her.

"Come with us." Blaise told her and she saw Pansy reach down for her bag. "Headmistress, we can take Hermione. She needs her friends right now. Come on, love. Don't waste your breath." His voice was soft, loving in her ear and as much as she cherished him right at that moment, she couldn't calm down.

"Do you want to tell everyone war stories, Ron? Is that it? Then tell them this story." She ripped the sleeve of her robe up, shoving her forearm in Ron's face. The angry scar demanded attention and the room fell silent. "Or should I tell them? Should I tell them how it wasn't a story of the bad guys and the good guys?"

"They were monsters." His voice was barely a whisper and she saw red.

"So am I." She exploded, and Blaise grabbed her other wrist before she lunged forward like a rabid animal. "And it takes a monster to put one down." She whispered and her friend tugged her backwards, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

"Come with us. It's okay to not be okay." Blaise rubbed circles in her back. "Don't touch him, Theo." He called over his shoulder and the three snakes led their lion from the Great Hall with glares for anyone who whispered.

She was an incoherent, babbling mess by the time they led her outside. Blaise hadn't gone as far to give any thought to where he was leading her, just the repeating thought to put as much room between her and the Great Hall as quickly as possible. Her legs gave way as they were halfway down the steps of of the castle.

He set her down as gently as possible and took the seat to the left of her. Hermione leaned into him once again when he slung an arm around her shoulders, feeling her tremble against him. Theo paced on the steps in a fury while Pansy chose to sit cross legged in front of her.

"Who does he think he is?" Theo finally snapped. "I should have stayed back there and cursed whatever offspring he has for the next six generations."

"It's not worth the effort." Blaise scolded. "Hermione, can you tell us what happened?" She inhaled and wiped her eyes with her sleeves.

"There was a first year, muggleborn he told us, and he asked Ron if the Death Eaters really wanted to kill muggleborns. Ron told him yes, and then told everyone I was tortured at Malfoy Manor. That made me angry. Why does everyone need to know Bellatrix tortured me? What does that information give them? They all stare at me like I'm this broken little doll." She took a deep breath, finally feeling more angry than broken.

"Ron said it was okay because I gave them a taste of their own medicine. That little boy had no idea he was sitting so close to a murderer." Her voice broke.

"You left this." Hermione craned her head back at his voice. Draco was standing over Blaise and herself, poised on the step behind her. She reached up to take her Head Girl pin from his hand. "You'll find Weasley won't be bothering you. He's in the hospital wing."

Hermione's eyes shot open as she pulled away from Blaise to turn to face him. Draco crouched down, just above eye level. "Draco,  _what did you do?_ "

"Nothing you can prove. I'll get a prefect to patrol with me tonight. I think you're better off where you are right now." He nodded to his friends, climbing back to his feet and leaving their group.

"I thought we got everything." Pansy said. "I double checked and everything."

"I must have dropped it." Hermione lied. Her pin had been in Draco's bedroom, likely lost somewhere in the green bedding in which she'd found herself entangled this morning. They hadn't said so much a word about the previous night.

"He could have returned it to you later." Pansy stated. 'He wanted to check on you."

She wanted to brush off that comment, but it was impossible. Restricted by the time frame, he had to have sprinted to their common room to grab it from his bedroom. Not to mention locate her and somehow attack Ron in the process. The fact he had injured her friend shouldn't have put a smile on her face.

She definitely wasn't happy Ron was injured. Nor was she happy by the irrational thought there were suddenly feelings climbing to the surface. Hope wasn't in her vernacular these days. He'd defended her though, and made an excuse to check on her wellbeing. Despite her negativity these days, even she couldn't ignore the warm feeling that had settled in her stomach.

She would tell Pansy the truth later. She'd never tell the truth about the Chamber of Secrets. On some unspoken agreement, the secret remained between them.

"We're some kind of friends." Hermione told them. "I appreciate the thought."

"Yeah, I'll bet you do, princess." Theo teased her and she was well aware the next conversation they had alone would be uncomfortable. "Do you feel better?"

"I feel well enough to plan a party." She told them, relishing in their smile and the tight hug she received from Blaise. "First of all: alcohol."

There wasn't a better sound than the laughter she got there.


	9. Chapter Nine

Pansy Parkinson was no stranger to the euphemism of being trapped between a rock and a hard place. As a well bred, pureblood daughter belonging to the Sacred Twenty Eight, she knew what that role meant for her future. And up until the rather unexpected befriending of a muggleborn, she'd gone along quietly.

Cassius Parkinson was nothing if not a traditionalist. With her father as a Death Eater at Tom Riddle's disposal, she opted to be seen rather than heard. Whatever deity she cursed that day could strike her down in holy fire if she mistakenly caught the attention of one of the sons.

Much had changed since the last night of her fifth year at Hogwarts. It had been ingrained in her what it meant to be her father's daughter. Purebloods married young, usually ending up betrothed to someone they had attended school alongside for years. Cassius's first choice had been the pale, blonde haired Malfoy heir, but things rarely went according to plan.

It also meant looking down on muggleborns and she'd done a magnificent job of doing so. Then on the last night of fifth year, at a party in the Gryffindor common room, Granger asked her a question that caught her off guard. " _Why do you hate me?"_ The girl was sloshed, her words slurring together as Saint Potter held her up.

Pansy remembered how she hesitated to tell her it was because she was a mudblood. She remembered all too well they way her eyes knit together as Granger planted the first seed of doubt that inevitably grew into a tree, destroying her previous roots. Whether Hermione had drank too much, or whether she was always so forthcoming, Pansy didn't know. What she did know was that someone asked her to her face if she resented mudbloods because being a pureblood took away your freedom.

It hit her like a load of bricks. Her parents did decide her life, and she was terrified of disappointing them. " _Are you living your best life, or are you just a puppet, Parkinson?"_

To the shock of both Blaise and Theo, she didn't hex that little Gryffindor. In a bout of courage she'd never felt before, she snatched the drink from Hermione's hand, downed the son of a bitch and disappointed her father for the first time in her life. Rebellion had never tasted so sweet.

That party somehow ended on the outskirts of the Great Lake was her best teenage memory. To have finally done something just because she wanted to, and not to bring some sort of honor to a stuffy old house that was stuck in the past. Even if she couldn't admit that last part yet. Pansy frequently imagined how her father would have reacted to seeing his own daughter take Hermione's hand and jump from a cliff into the Great Lake on the outside of the castle, laughing with abandon.

Her relationship with the Gryffindor brainiac was semi civil, but they mostly owled each other with insults that didn't carry the same weight they once had.

Pansy told herself on occasion this was a phase. Draco was sucked into a life that was worlds away from her own these days and he'd left a six foot two hole that demanded to be filled. It was a pathetic sort of lie. First of all, Hermione was at least nine inches shorter than that of their vacant Slytherin counterpart.

Second of all, the very thought of Hermione vanishing from her life made her chest ache. It took an entire summer to become the sort of friends you go to war beside and not against.

Blaise and Theo arranged one day at the end of August to see their secret friend. Pansy had gone through revelations through the summer, but none of them were as big as the one she made as she rushed at Hermione, crushing her into a hug that told her everything she'd need to know from that day forward.

In the middle of muggle London, the truth slammed into her with the full force of the scarlet Hogwarts express behind it.

The world  _was_ going to war, and she couldn't stop that. She was on one side or the other, there would be no side lines. At least, not a sideline she could live to stand behind. Death eaters, and that damned mark had once stood for the things she put her faith in, but not now. If the world they desired meant she would never see her best friend's head thrown back in a laugh as she took Pansy with her into the fountain they sat on, it meant one thing.

Lie. It meant a multitude of things for her that she'd been pushing to the recesses of her mind throughout this summer. The truth demanded to be heard and she felt it vibrate through her goddamn soul.

The life of an aristocrat wasn't her life. It was cushy, comfortable, and boring. She would not marry young. She would not lose her choices, not when Hermione showed her that she did indeed have them. She would not live in a world where someone like Hermione Granger would be hunted and put down like a wild beast.

There is a special kind of magic that resided in the ability to make your own choices, and while she was grateful, she could only pray she would never fight across from her father.

But as she mentioned earlier, things rarely go according to plan. Such as the plan to let that red headed idiot get off without facing the wrath she concealed from Hermione.

Not to steal the spotlight, but if she could fight against her father, Ron Weasley was small time. She waited until Blaise took Hermione back to her dorm, Theo's arms slung around them both, before she set off into the castle.

"Draco!" She yelled as she sprinted down the corridor. The prat didn't even stop to allow her to catch up easier. "Hey." She reached out to grab him as she finally got to him. "I need to talk to you." Her breath fell in short falls.

"Walk and talk." Came his own infuriating response. They continued on down the dimly lit hall at the top of the castle. "How is she?"

"Upset. Broken. Pick an adjective. Damned Weasley humiliated her tonight."

He wore a tight lipped smile. "What did he say?"

"He gave everyone a reminder that she was tortured. Then he basically said that it was okay because Hermione gave the Death Eaters a taste of their own medicine."

"I heard her yell something along the lines of having made nine mistakes." The low rumble of his voice, the emotion behind it, caused her to shiver. "I don't understand how it's so hard for him to not be a massive arse to her."

"I'm really worried about her, Draco. How does she act when she's alone?"

"I wouldn't know. I'm not with her when she's alone." He replied, content with his own secrets and wore a damned smirk on his face.

"Malfoy." She hissed, whacking the back of his head as hard as she could. '

"Okay, okay." He snapped, rubbing the back of his head. "I don't know, Pans. She's quiet, and that's already weird. She used to ramble. The very few times we've talked to each other have been while drinking, but that doesn't mean she confides in me."

"I'm not talking about what she tells you. It's about what she doesn't say." She says as if it is the most obvious thing in the world. "So cut the shit and tell me the truth. I know you're observant and I know for damn sure you notice when she's upset."

The lines of his face were set in a scowl. "Fuck you. She's not okay. She cries at night when she's alone, and she screams when she has nightmares, which is nearly every night. She drinks more than she should, but I've noticed she only does when I'm there to tell her to stop. Except for last night. What the hell are you doing out of the infirmary?" He growled the sentence, glaring daggers at the redhead who he'd left unconscious hours prior.

Ron was leaned against the wall with Lavender slouched against him. "Just spare me the excuses. Go to your dorms." There was a barely there tremor in his voice, and Pansy noted the way his veins stood out from his forearm.

The other two were drunk, Ron more so. "Ask Hermione about the night at Malfoy Manor. It was all my fault.' He slurred and Pansy almost felt sorry for the unabashed tears roll down his face. Almost.

"I'm not going to ask her anything. We're smart enough to not mention what's destroyed her life." Her hands trembled at her own words. Destroyed. The flame that was her friend had burned brighter than any other, and some excuse of a friend had stomped it out.

"She wouldn't have been there if it weren't for me. It should have been me. All my fault."

"Can you take him to Gryffindor tower? If I have to lug his arse there, I'm going to be sure he hits his head on every torch. Or perhaps a pike." Draco drawled, one hand in his robes, and she knew he was ready to draw his wand.

Lavender stumbled with Ron's weight down the hallway, making the first turn that she could to escape the lingering glares. "What happened last night?" She asked, standing right beside Draco. Her shoulders had relaxed, her arms flat against her sides.

"She kept drinking after I went to sleep. I heard a crash in the common room, but she'd just dropped the bottle. Granger drank too much and forgot her own password, so I let her sleep in my room." Her eyes shot open as Draco clamped a hand down on her mouth. "I slept on the couch. Don't get any ideas. I wouldn't even mention it to her either."

"I'm not sure what to say." She admitted. "But I'm glad at least someone is with her, even if it's not me."

"I won't let Granger hurt herself. I might let her hurt somebody else."

"I'm glad she had someone who loves her so much."

"Don't you push your fucking luck here." He growled and stomped away from her. She didn't press on, but watched his figure turn around a corner and bit her lip when she heard him shouting at another student after curfew. Which if she didn't return to the dungeon soon, that would be her.

* * *

It definitely wasn't his business. Yet Weasley's statement stayed in the back of his head, a nagging voice as he entered their common room. Draco blamed himself for not stepping in sooner. He'd cowardly stayed out of his deranged aunt's path to protect himself. She wasn't curled up in the normal spot on the end of the couch, paired with a Gryffindor blanket and a muggle novel of her choice.

Light spilled from beneath her bedroom door. He knocked on the wooden door three times, and heard rustling from inside. "Go away, Ron." She shouted.

"Not Weasel." He called back, only to have the door thrown open a second later. "You look like shit." Partly a lie. She wore an old quidditch shirt of Potter's, accompanied with a pair of shorts that were barely considered such. Her unmanageable hair threatened to break her hair tie. She looked inviting, and he thought she'd look so much better in his team shirt, with  _Malfoy_  written across the back.

"You sure know how to talk to women, don't you?" She replied as her eyebrows shot high on her forehead.

"I meant the shirt, obviously." He waved a hand over his rival colors.

"Right. Come in if you want." She left the door open and hopped onto her own bed, crossing her legs beneath her. There was a book lying open that she moved for him to have a seat. Draco slipped out of his robes, tossing them over the bed railing. "To what do I owe this visit?"

"Weasley." Her eyes narrowed. "He mentioned something to me concerning you when I caught him out after curfew. Apparently my damage wasn't lasting."

"He mentioned me? To you?" Draco nodded. She sighed. "Well, that can't be anything good. Out with it, Malfoy."

"You're not going to like it, Granger. It was a mistake to bring it up." It was too late to grab his robe and sweep out of the room, as she pulled him back down to the bed when he tried to stand.

"If you try to leave this room I will tackle you and tickle you until you tell me what's going on." She muttered darkly. "Don't you dare try to spare my feelings. I'm a big girl."

"I'm not ticklish." He declared, daring to halfway hoping she'd call his bluff. Hermione took it as a personal challenge, a mischievous smile replacing her frown and lunged at him. His arms came around her like a cage as they both tipped over the side of the bed, their laughter too loud against the silence of her room.

"Are you sure you're not ticklish?" She asked him after they landed against each other. Her cheeks were flushed as she back peddled. He entertained the idea then, that this just had to be the sort of situation he ended up in with her. With her straddling his waist, utterly oblivious to the way his eyes darkened because he could only think of capturing her by the nape of her neck and kissing her because he got to live, and not because he was being condemned to die.

"Definitely not." He answered her, and her fingers were suddenly against his sides and he couldn't contain his laughter. High pitched giggles escaped her as her hair finally escaped her ponytail and fell around her face.

"You lied!" She laughed, and he found the control to flip her on her back and return the favor. "Don't you dare!" She shrieked and found his fingertips ghosting up her sides. "No." She shook with laughter, trying to wiggle her way free of his grip.

"Are you quite done with your assault on me?" Draco asked in his strictest voice, a genuine smile creeping across his face as he took her in.

"You say that like you weren't just having a great time." She scoffed.

"You are right, Granger." She captured her lip with her bottom lip whenever she was thinking, and it was the simplest habit, but it drove him crazy.

"I still want to know what Ron said to you." She sat up with him, comfortable sitting on the plush carpet, and brought her knees to her chest. "You can tell me anything, Malfoy. You can't upset me anymore than he already has tonight."

Draco raked a hand through his hair, wrecking the gel he'd applied that morning."Weasley told me to ask you about Malfoy Manor. He was telling me it was his fault. Listen, he was drunk and not making any sense."

"There's a reason he thinks it's his fault." Her eyes watered as she pulled on the string of Harry's shirt. "And you'll blame him too." She finished.

"I don't blame anyone besides myself for what happened to you inside my home." There was a gentleness in his voice he rarely used. "I shouldn't have mentioned this to you after your night."

"I don't blame Ron at all. It could have happened anyways, but the fact is that we wouldn't have been taken by snatchers that night if it weren't for him. We might have been captured later, but," As awful as it was to see her cry, he could pretend, for just a moment, that this was their previous years as she rambled on and on. "You've made it clear you're..protective of me. Perhaps that isn't the right word here. The only reason Ron would have told you to ask me is because you will blame him, and he's masochistic when he's feeling guilty."

"I promise I won't kill him." He told her, despite the fact that whatever secret she was cradling close to her was going to test his patience more than anything else. "I couldn't care less about him, but he's important to you. I have no interest in hurting you, and if I hurt him, I'll also hurt you."

"That's a rather mature way to see it."

"Don't act so surprised. It's offensive.I am house trained." She rolled her eyes at his sarcasm, the smallest of smiles curving her bottom lip.

"The taboo on Voldemort's name, Ron broke it." He didn't move, didn't exhale the breath he was holding, but his hands curled into fists. Weasley hadn't been lying. Hermione would have never been there if it weren't for him. "Draco." She murmured. "Could you please say something now?"

"You shouldn't have been there. You wouldn't have been there if it weren't for him."

"Snatchers could have caught us later." Her explanation was overused, said too many times in the presence of a mirror. "I don't blame him. He's my best friend, and I know it was an accident." She told him. "Ron just told the one person who might actually murder him for it."

"I'd be pleased to oblige right this second." She whispered his name, and the uncertainty in her eyes cracked him. "Watching Bellatrix carve into you was the worst day of my life. I couldn't do anything."

"You saved my life." She corrected, and tugged her sleeve up. "I'm not ashamed of this scar. It's ugly, and I hate looking at it everyday, but I would not have survived without you."

"That's not my point."

"Then what is your point? Blaming Ron won't turn back time so I'm never tortured. I can tell you it won't make you feel better."

"My point," He hissed. "Is you should have never been there. I wish I could go back. I've thought of what I would have done differently. Like transfiguring her cursed knife into a kitchen knife so you'd never have to live with this." The weight of his palm against her forearm was soft, but it was warm. "Or casting Avada Kedavra the second she said to leave you. I would have left your friends, and apparated with you then. I'm not shifting blame to Weasley to forgive myself."

"That's not what I meant."

"Hermione," He placed a hand over her mouth. "Shut up. You forgive him, I know. As far as I'm concerned, it's his fault you were caught and brought to the Manor, but I know how much that idiot means to you. You don't need to explain your reasoning to me."

"Thank you." He didn't deserve her thanks, not when he wasn't sure Ron Weasley would live to see his next birthday.

"Don't thank me." He grumbled. "I will only promise that I won't be the one to start an altercation. If Weasley is stupid enough to pick a fight with me, which he is, then no promises."

She frowned. "That's not ideal."

"It's the best you'll get from me. I have a present for you, two actually." The tension let out of the room. If the mention of presents always made her light up this way, he'd take to secretly stowing away fancy quills and books for her. Not that he would admit it, said or unsaid.

"For my birthday?"

"Are you that surprised?" He didn't mean to snap at her. "I'm not a complete arse, Granger."

"Not being a complete arse isn't the same as being friends,  _Malfoy._  Don't be so sensitive." She defended.

"You sent me a present over the summer. Would I not return the favor?"

"Yes, because you just seemed so thrilled that I had sent you a gift. What with your lack of reply and all." She exploded.

"I was thrilled." He snapped at her. "I didn't know it meant so much to you." While it was his honest response, honesty was the last thing she heard. It came out wrong, as if he were mocking her.

"You didn't think replying to me was important?" She asked him. "After the Battle of Hogwarts and I heard nothing from you?"

"Letters can go both ways, Granger. It's just as much your fault."

Hermione jumped to her feet, throwing his robe at him, his Head Boy pin clipping him in his teeth. "Get the hell out of my room, Malfoy!" He didn't move from his spot on the floor. She appeared to be on the verge of tears for the second time tonight and it was all his fault.

"Not until you tell me why you're screaming at me. Honestly, weren't you raised with any manners?" His mother would have dropped her dainty persona to strangle her only child. He might just ask her to do it anyways. The words coming from his mouth were all wrong, not at all showing what he thought.

She was going to slaughter him and the last thing he would see before his untimely death would be one Hermione Granger, hands poised on her hips, standing above him like she were about to kick him in the face. "Manners?" She echoed, one eyebrow higher than the other. "Were you raised with any goddamn manners?" She seethed.

"My manners are impeccable, unlike," He scoffed, but if anything, he was inviting her for a rerun of third year where she had broken his nose.

"Would you call kissing someone and making a promise to figure things out together, and then bloody ignoring them for four months manners? Because let me tell you, that hurt. You're in my room, acting like you give a damn about me after that and you expect me to not be upset? Was it a game for you? Was it fun?" She spat at him furiously, trying to shove him towards the door.

He'd scrambled to his feet halfway through her tirade, chest constricting roughly. "You don't,"

"Do you want me to beg for you to leave?" She deadpanned. "I don't need you to let me down easy. I already know it was a one off."

"Do you even hear yourself? If I didn't care about you, would I be here? Would I look out for you when you don't even know? Have I ever done anything that wasn't for myself or some payoff?"

"I think if you cared about me as much as you pretend, you'd have fought for me." That was the straw that broke the camel's back.

'I did fight for you, witch." He roared, storming up to her and taking her by the shoulders. " _I fought my father._ "

"I know!" She cried. "I shouldn't have said it like that. You did so much for me because you thought you were going to die. So why not after you got to live? Am I only appealing when you're going to be violently murdered? Why tell me to marry someone else, as if I would. I'm a kid myself, Malfoy. Why would you push me away when you didn't need to pretend you hated me anymore?" She clapped her hand over her mouth just as his eyes widened. "I didn't mean to say that."

"Who told you?" Too calm. Her less than venomous attitude in sixth year fell into place in the final place of a puzzle. The lingering glances that set him on fire. She shook her head. "Was it the Slytherin you were with?" She nodded. "Granger, I want to know who knew my business. It wasn't easy to tell, and I need,"

"It was Theo." She didn't expect him to stay around after her outburst. Low expectations didn't help the way her heart stuttered as he walked away from her. "I'm sorry. He told me to watch you during the Amortentia lesson and I did. We realized he was right and ended it then."

He waved his hand. "I don't care who you've shagged." Draco told her, and relief flooded her face. "Four months and fourteen days, and there's not a day I don't think about you, Granger. I've made a load of mistakes in my life, but you've never been one. I don't know what best for you, but it's never going to be me."

Then he was gone.


	10. Chapter Ten

It was 2:14 in the morning when she started screaming. His eyes opened unceremoniously, already knowing her routine. Already knowing how he couldn't bring himself to silence the room, and block her out. She always had nightmares, the kind that made his skin crawl, despite her reckless combination of sleeping draughts, calming draughts, and some sort of muggle medicine that she told him was for anxiety.

He didn't know the first sodding thing about muggle medicine, but he asked her if it was safe. She'd dodged the question.

He sat up in the bed, sheets bunched around his waist. It would be take longer for her to get to sleep tonight. His words from earlier gnawed at him, how he'd mentioned he wouldn't do things for her if he didn't care. Staying awake while she was reliving the war was one of those things. It just didn't feel right to silence the room and sleep as if she weren't spasming in her own bed, screaming at an unknown face.

If she knew, she'd throw her arms around his neck, and her bottom lip would tremble as she fought the urge to cry. He knew that, and that's precisely why she didn't know about the little things. He shouldn't have even told her how he thought about her everyday; it only made it harder on both of them. Granger saw the best and the worst in him, and accepted him all the same.

He fucking hated it.

She used to be warm. She used to smile all the time, and while she smiled now, he knew they were fake. He knew she was breaking inside, collapsing in on herself and there wasn't a damn thing he could do to help her. They were still children, but they felt like they'd aged a decade in the last few years. He knew that behind her carefully constructed facade, she was itching for something. Anything. The world was peaceful, too calm for her.

Draco groaned, raking his fingers through his hair. For someone who thought he had a way with words, he finally had nothing he could have told her. He knew how easy it could be if he'd marched back into her bedroom and sat her down. He knew she'd spent a long while thinking of his last words, as he knew he'd done the same.

He'd counted on Granger believing he didn't care, but to hear her say it outloud. Fuck, if it didn't feel like she'd just plunged a knife into his heart. She'd always been different. Brilliant, and she was aware of how he felt (he'd made a mess of things by being so forward), but she didn't push.

He really hadn't been sure what had drawn him to her in the first few years, but he chalked it up to the fact that she was a mudblood. And that he needed to reign superiority over her. As if it had worked. She beat him in every class, every year.

Then fourth year came, and he saw the changes he'd elected to ignore. He remembered very clearly when the Dark Mark was cast, and he could never forget the way his heart hammered in his chest when she was about to do what she did best: throw herself headlong into danger with her Gryffindor pals. He didn't stop himself from telling her to keep her bushy head down, but to be quite frank, it wasn't that bushy anymore.

Then of course, the Yule Ball, and he realized her uniform was quite baggy, hiding a feminine figure. With Pansy on his arm, demanding his attention at an annoying fourteen years old, he hadn't been completely obvious. All he could say was that Krum was the lucky one, to be able to be open about his relationships.

By the time Voldemort put the mark on his arm, he'd masted occlumency, courtesy of Snape. It was the only thing that kept him alive, and didn't out him as a traitor. No, he found he did a rather good job of declaring that himself. Sixth year was the hardest. Being tasked to kill Albus Dumbledore, and get the Death Eaters into Hogwarts took it's toll on his mental and physical health. He found he barely slept anymore.

Even then she never left his head.

Granger was quick to point out that he hadn't called her mudblood in a while, and asked if he were losing his pureblood edge. Knowing Theo had told her made the conversation fall into place, amongst other things he'd yet to learn. It was after the Amortentia lesson, conveniently scheduled on Valentine's Day. She'd already known by then. Granger brought it up in private, during prefect patrols, and as if she weren't already suffocating him with her scent, she had to bring up the possibility that he didn't loathe her as much as he pretended.

The fact that he'd called her every slur in the book after that, and she'd bloody known what he was hiding, made him want to break everything in the room. Even if he'd known he'd been made, nothing could have changed. He couldn't have talked to her, not with certain death lingering over the Malfoys. The relationship with his father had been in a downward spiral since Voldemort returned.

He wanted to protect his mother; he was still sure if it were anyone, he would be the one to take his father's life, and beyond that, he wanted Hermione Granger as far from him as possible. He heard about her, clearly, from within Hogwarts.

When the three Gryffindors weren't on the platform, his stomach dropped. It was expected; their closest friends didn't bat an eyelash at the missing seats, nor did they breathe a word when questioned.

So when the first rumor dropped through the ranks of Death Eaters, trickling down into his classmates, the world broke on it's axis. While he couldn't say he knew her personally, he'd assumed what she stood for. Light, hope, and all the other shit that came with being a member of The Order.

Hermione Granger had killed a Death Eater when confronted.

She wasn't just an annoying pest to Lord Voldemort anymore, as he said. Draco had sat in silence one afternoon at in his childhood home. Umbridge sent him through the floo network, to attend to family matters. He listened with a blank face, but he could not believe what he was hearing. Dolohov weaved the story under the effects of veritaserum, and whatever he thought he knew, simply wasn't true.

In Godric's Hollow, they'd found Granger and Potter, visiting his parents' graves, and she warned them. Dolohov had put the memory inside of a pensieve, and once he was alone, Draco couldn't hide from his curiosity.

There was nothing to share, besides that she had snapped. So came an order to treat her as a lethal opponent. Draco had casted an avada more times than he cared to tell, but he always remembered how many. The crushing guilt kept him human, kept him remorseful, but Narcissa Malfoy was worth all the lives he'd take. But he hoped he never had to live with the guilt for years to come.

Malfoy listened for rumors about her, boasting loudly how he hoped he'd be the one to kill her to maintain his facade.

Then against every assumption he'd made, she was caught by snatchers and deposited roughly onto the floor of his drawing room. Bellatrix called for him to identify, and he lied, badly, but lied. As he'd told her moments earlier, there were a lot of things he'd do differently if he could go back. He'd murder Bellatrix, but before that, he'd have gotten his mother into a safe place.

But if he could go back to the beginning, the hesitant time before being branded by the dark mark, Draco would have told Albus Dumbledore and switched sides.

The present almost seemed harder than being in a state of emergency constantly. Fighting for his life, that he could do without so much a thought. Coming back to Hogwarts as if it were any other year just wasn't as simple as his mother had tried to reassure him. From the moment McGonagall asked him to assume the Head Boy position, the same spot he'd held a year earlier (under very different circumstances) he was sure that fate would never be so kind to let him out alive.

He'd been pardoned from a stint in Azkaban, thanks to the irritating witch across the dorm from him. He was under careful surveillance, but he found it wasn't so stifling when you had nothing to hide. His mother was breathing, keeping herself busy with maintaining house, and was slowly re entering the wizarding world. The prospect of her entering the public eye with no one beside her made his stomach churn.

No one had to remind him his father was still uncaptured. In truth, there were a few reasons he hadn't personally replied to Hermione's gift for his birthday. For one, he was a sodding idiot, and he didn't stop to think it might hurt her. For two, he wasn't home. He hadn't been home since the end of the trial, and Narcissa swore to never tell Granger. She was still an insufferable know it all, and she would have gotten her way. And he couldn't watch her fight for her life against his father one last time. To no avail, because he never found Lucius, who was now missing once again after breaking into the manor.

Her silence was deafening as the the cold draft of the room settled over him. Hermione was fast asleep again, and he knew from the previous weeks, that she wouldn't wake until sunrise.

XXXX

Blaise was the first to know they had a fight, as she cursed him out in the middle of the hallway for even mentioning having her sit at the Slytherin table that next morning. "Are you mental? Did you ignore everything I just told you?" She was yelling now.

"Okay, okay, okay." He rambled, clapping a hand over her mouth. "Believe me I heard you. Everybody in this wing heard you." Her cheeks were flushed as she swatted his hand away. "Why don't you tell me what happened?" He asked her in a much quieter tone. "This sounds like it's more than just a row you've had."

"I'm an idiot." She mumbled under her breath as he led her to an alcove where they wouldn't be heard. "You remember how Theo said to watch him during the Amortentia lesson?"

He chuckled. "As if any of us could forget. We've been making bets ever since on when Draco would give in."

"What did you bet?"

"That he would find you during the war. Hogwarts was so bad last year, and I think hearing the news about you kept him sane, just knowing you were alive. When he heard about Godric's Hollow, Theo was sure he was going to take off."

Hermione couldn't comment on that, as Theo had told her in one of his many letters that Malfoy took special care to hear about her. And she knew he'd seen the memory of the first avada she'd ever used. "Can you keep a secret for now? You can't even tell Theo or Pansy."

"I'm the only one who keeps secrets around here."

"You won that bet." She said softly, feeling a weight lift off of her. "He found me in the Chamber of Secrets right before the end. I'll spare you the details, alright. We kissed, and to make matters worse, he tells me how I should marry Ron, or some other bullshit about having the life I always wanted. He made me a promise, and it was that we could talk after the war. He told me he had a present for my birthday and it was a petty fight."

"What did he say?"

"He told me how of course he'd return the favor since I'd sent him a gift for his birthday and then I yelled at him how I couldn't tell since he never replied." Blaise frowned. "I took him the wrong way, and then he asked me if I was raised with any manners and I blew up on him. He knows about Theo and I."

Blaise's eyes shot open. "That explains his pissy attitude this morning." Hermione nodded.

"He told me he didn't care, but it's a shock." Blaise nodded. "I feel like shit for even saying anything." She told him how she'd combusted, all her frustrations coming out, directly at him. She told him, despite her humiliation, how she'd accused Malfoy of not fighting for her. His last words were still ringing in her ears.

"He's not mad at you, Hermione."

"He'd better not be, especially since I walked in on him and Pansy in the prefects bath in fifth year." Blaise snorted. "That's neither here nor there. He's not mad, but it would be so awkward to sit across from him as if nothing happened."

"Would you rather sit with Ron or Draco?" She glared at him. "I'm not going to let you sit by yourself."

"I'd rather be myself." He shook his head, and she sighed. "Fine. I'll sit with you all today. It's not like it can get any worse." It was something she knew she shouldn't have said, because it can, in fact, get worse.

XXXXXX

At the beginning of the term, there had been some laughs over the newest Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. There had been some jokes, mostly from Theo, of how they would be making daisy chains instead of learning how to fight. Hermione Granger wasn't surprised easily anymore, and the fact that Pomona Sprout was their newest professor didn't cause her to so much as bat an eye.

She'd heard how they needed someone like Alastor Moody, an ex auror, and someone with a firm hand. Certainly not the Hufflepuff head of house. She'd already heard how since she'd spent years in Herbology, she'd never be able to hurt a fly.

Well, they were bloody wrong. Hufflepuff, as the Sorting Hat said, are kind and unafraid of toil. What the Sorting Hat didn't sing to you on the first day of the term each year, was how honey badgers were not to be trifled with. She watched Goyle try to saunter into their duels in the second week of school, boasting how their own professor couldn't even best him. A fact altogether laughable, since Hermione was certain an untrained monkey could best the likes of Gregory Goyle.

With a mischievous smile, and a twinkle in her eyes, Professor Sprout used non verbal magic to knock Goyle to the wall, besting him in combat before he ever had a chance to use a spell.

There were no more jokes of daisy chains, and how she'd be better suited to remain in Herbology. Sprout had the habit of choosing Hermione for demonstrations ( she was Head Girl after all ) but today was different. Over the years, she'd tackled every area of magic that she could, excluding Divination.

In white chalk there was a spell written across the black board, and she knew her words to Blaise earlier that morning had tempted fate.

Expecto Patronum.

"Miss Granger, would you mind demonstrating?" Professor Sprout called, and she gripped her quill too tightly, bending it beyond repair. "Miss Granger?"

"I can't, Professor. Ginny Weasley can." Ginny caught on fast enough, nodding her head.

"Yours is beautiful to see, Miss Granger. I simply love otters." Hermione swallowed, shuffling in her seat. "Why can't you demonstrate?"

"Because I can no longer conjure a patronus." She answered and the smile slipped from Sprout's face. "You need a happy memory to conjure a corporeal patronus, and while I have happy memories, I'm just not able to cast the charm now. I'm sorry." The truth was out there, and her professor's gasp caused a scowl to settle on her face.

To conjure a patronus meant you were on the right side, part of the light as the Order frequently used them as a means to communicate. To have lost the ability to produce that tiny otter anymore...it hit her hard. Behind her, Goyle sat with a small group of boys, who reluctantly tolerated him, and they were laughing under their breath.

"Is there a problem, Goyle?" Ginny snapped, turning around in her seat with a pointed glare.

"I just think it's funny how Granger can't even conjure a patronus charm after all her bullshit about being on the right side. Did you use to killing curse too many times?"

Her chair screeched against the floor as she pushed away from the desk, turning with a harsh glare. "Would you like to know what I think is funny?" She asked sweetly, her hand curling into a fist. "I think it's utterly hilarious how Voldemort was only impressed with your performance as a Death Eater when it wasn't even you. It was me, some filthy little mudblood, who used a polyjuice potion." The grin fell from his face and Ginny was still beside her. "You have anything else you'd like to say?" His friends were silent, looking away from her burning eyes.

"You'd better watch your back, mudblood." He sneered at her.

She scoffed. "No matter what world we're in, I'll never be afraid of you."

Bringing up that very heated memory wasn't a good idea. She was warming up to the prospect of not looking over her shoulder every second, wondering if Lucius Malfoy was beneath some kind of disguise. He'd been very clear in his threats on the Hogwarts grounds, if you could call the rubble that, in the midst of the chaos.

He swore on the Malfoy name he was going to kill her like the worthless mudblood she was, and he'd murder his own son just as well. While he wasn't able to enter Hogwarts, she still never felt safe. Especially now that she reminded Goyle of what had to be the worst fucking day of his life. She expected a stray curse around every corner, but they never came.

"What happened in Defense Against the Dark Arts?" She shrieked, several books tumbling from her arms as she jumped. "For fucks sake." He groaned. Malfoy stood off to her right, hands shoved in the pockets of his robes. "Why are you so jumpy?"

"Figured you were Goyle, and you were about to murder me." She responded dryly. "What do you want? I thought we were ignoring each other."

"I was never ignoring you, Granger. You made that choice all on your own." He bent down to gather the books she'd all but thrown while she stood there.

"Right, that's why you left last night." She stated. "It doesn't matter. Nothing happened in Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"I know I've told you." He drawled. "You're a shitty liar. Pansy told me, who heard from your other Weasley friend."

"Ginny." She corrected. "Her name is Ginny."

"I don't care. Goyle left something for you in our common room; he followed me in under a disillusionment charm. I wouldn't ask you a question I didn't already know that answer to." She rolled her eyes.

"What did he do then?"

"He tried to leave a death eater mask on the coffee table." She stared at him, her mouth going dry. "It's still there. I assumed you'd want to see for yourself." She shook her head, keeping her eyes away from his.

"Get rid of it, or give it to McGonagall. Let me guess, the mouth looks like it's been stitched shut?" He nodded. "It belongs to his father; I killed him." Draco's eyes widened, only slightly.

"Granger, I didn't know." She shrugged.

"You'll find there is quite a bit you don't know, but it happened during the war, when I used the polyjuice potion to transform into Goyle." He set the books back on the table beside her. "I know you listened for updates about me; there's not point in saying you had no idea."

"Theo told you?"

"Theo always sent me letters and he had a habit of telling me about you. I imagine it's because of the.." She trailed off. How did she put it into words? "He mentioned how you listened for what I was doing, and how you watched Dolohov's memory."

"Should I not have?" He asked her then. She turned away without an answer. "Granger, we can't ignore eachother forever."

"I can certainly try. I need to be alone. Goyle was in our dorm, where I sleep, and left his dead father's memento. It's a threat, and I don't appreciate threats." She stacked the books inside of her bag, that still held the undetectable extension charm. "Whatever you want to talk about, I don't think it matters all that much right now."

"You didn't let him just walk out, did you?" She asked quietly, her back turned.

"You know I would never let him walk away." His voice was gentle, and she had only heard him speak tenderly when they were alone. "I changed the password to the one we discussed earlier this year." She nodded, her heart clenching as if the tenderness in his voice mattered.

What did matter was that while she might worry about how to defend herself against the likes of Malfoy's father, who had experienced what muggles liked to call, a psychotic break, she was not worried about Gregory Goyle. In fact, she'd already been down that road once, and it was easily traveled by.


	11. Chapter Eleven

It was cold for the nineteenth of September, she thought, as she scurried out of the castle. For two days she could hardly stomach being anywhere near her dorm mate, who she hadn't spoken to since their chat in the library. How had their banter, and for fucks sake, a tickle fight turned into a screaming match about a lost kiss in the midst of a battle?

They had been at war, on opposite sides for the majority no less. It was foolish to have romanticized anything during the pivotal moments leading up to the last stand. It was all about to end, one way or another. It was an infatuation, she told herself. For both of them. Malfoy had been a vision of his namesake in the years she'd known him. Suddenly he was stealing glances at her, and they were without his sneers. It was for the best if she could believe that it was a phase, and he was just seeing what it was like.

Ginny and Pansy reassured her this would pass, and the two of them could resume their uneasy friendship. Hermione shook her head and told them over the roar of quidditch practice that she wasn't so sure. She had blown up on him, as if she weren't trained to brush off his condescending remarks.

Ignoring his presence would have been easier if she weren't repeating the last thing he told her over and over again. Not a day goes by that I don't think about you, Granger.

The sun was just beginning to rise, and she sat on a stone ledge of the castle. Before Hogwarts, the Grangers had watched the sunrises on this day every year. Once she was gone every year, her parents made her a promise as she wrote to them the week before her birthday of her first year, that they would still watch the sun rise together, even if they were apart. It wasn't the same this year, but she liked to imagine they were watching in Australia, even if they had no idea what compelled them to sit in silence.

Traditions were important to their family. Now she had traditions, and no one to share them with. She knew that her friends would oblige, and jump at the opportunity to see her walls come down. That they would humor her by going to her favorite book store on her birthday, and to the zoo because she adored animals. Theo would happily throw her up on his shoulders come Christmas time to let her stick the star on the tree.

Pansy and Ginny might groan, because they could shop for clothes, but they would sit with her in silence to read. Just because they knew sometimes she enjoyed company, but rather in silence.

She knew Blaise's family would invite her for holidays, even invite the entirety of team savior, because family isn't only blood. It's love.

The amount of outpouring love she received since they end took hold of her heart, sprinting away, and her mind screamed for her to respond. To reach out and take hold of Harry's hand and talk more than listen during their moments at the astronomy tower. Or to sit down with Ron and talk until they could be in the same room again. If she could keep her best friend since childhood, that would make her happy.

"Early, isn't it?" She looked to her right to see Harry. "Time to watch the sun rise?" He asked her and she nodded.

"You remembered?" To her memory, she'd only ever mentioned it in passing. Harry swung one leg over the side of the castle ledge and sat close to her. "Thank you." If she could have had a sibling, she liked to believe it would be someone like Harry. He understood more than the rest, what it was like to lose your parents. He told her that it was worse for them to be lost, but still in this world.

Reassurances of at least they were alive didn't make her happy anymore. It cut her deeply to know they were living their lives, still able to smile, and still unable to know her. It was selfish, not chivalrous at all, to be upset they were happy. Obliviate allowed them to live, and at the end of the day, she'd saved someone.

Hermione leaned into him, laying her head on his shoulder. The frigid air was cold against her face, numbing her fingers, and she was glad she'd grabbed a knit beanie to keep her head warm. Harry was quiet as they watched the sun break from the horizon, the shades of orange and pink mingling.

"I'm glad you remembered." She told him, looping her arm through his. "Thanks for being here for me. I know it's put a strain of your relationship with Ron."

He shook his head. "I'd do anything for you, just like you've done for me. I'm not going to make Ron my priority just because he was my friend first. Especially not when he's hurt you like he has. He brought it on himself."

"I don't want him to be alone either."

"We'll get there in time, and we'll get there together." He told her, pointing to a spot in the sky where there was a muggle airplane far, far away from Hogwarts. "We've talked. He understands that he was in the wrong, and he can't come on so strong if he wants to keep you in his life. Having you sit at the Slytherin table the last two days was a bit of an eye opener." She nodded.

Malfoy had kept her at arm's length those two days and she sat as far from him as she could without venturing into the snake pit. They were polite to each other, and both days he had excused himself before meals were finished.

"I'll sit with you all today." She told him. Sitting away from them on her birthday just didn't feel right to her. "It'll be fun. Awkward, but fun." Harry laughed.

Sitting there with Harry brought about a simple kind of joy, the kind you felt when your loved ones held your hand, or stood by your side even when it was hard. Even when you were falling apart on yourself, and it hurt them to watch. Harry was loyal to a fault, and he knew that Hermione full heartedly believed sometimes you have to fall apart to build someone better.

Except her broken, jagged edges didn't allow for anything to fit together anymore.

* * *

"Sit with us today." Harry told them and her jaw went slack. While he truly had become friendly with her other friends, he didn't go out of his way to welcome them. "We'd like to borrow Hermione for her birthday, and I know she wants to sit with you all as well."

It a rather unexpected move, they agreed. She found herself between Harry and Pansy, with Blaise and Theo sitting across from them. Ron made a noticeable effort to be polite, and she smiled like an idiot. Ginny clapped her hands together, yelling to get their tables attention. "Time to sing to the birthday girl!"

"Oh, Ginny, I don't think that's really necessary." Her words were rushed and she barely had any time to cover her ears before Theo burst into song. Her sides hurt from laughing as the Gryffindors joined in, belting out in song, each of them trying to out do the other. Her eyes watered, and Pansy gripped her hand beneath the table.

She got the message, the same messaged she'd heard from her friend before. It's okay to smile. It's okay to be happy. "Alright, open this." Blaise handed her a box. "It's from the three of us."

"Here. You'll need these as well." Theo passed her a box of tissues that she swore hadn't been there a minute ago. She sat the tissues on the table and pushed her plate in front of Harry's to make room for the box.

"Will this make me cry?"

"For sure." Pansy said and they nodded in usion.

She tore the wrapping from the large square box, chucking it directly Theo's face for teasing her over unwrapping it so slowly. She pried the box open and lifted the photo album out of it. The album itself was brown leather, and it was beautiful. "I don't know what to say."

"Open it. We filled it with pictures."

On the first page, she grabbed a tissue when Harry held the box out to her. Staring back at her was a full cover spread of Harry, Ron and herself rushing to hug each other after Voldemort's demise. Her fingers trailed over the way Ron's gripped her tightly, and how he yanked Harry into them. Their clothes were destroyed, they were covered in grime and dirt from months on the run. And from the castle falling around them.

The next page moved to show her the day she met her snakes in muggle London a week before the start of sixth year. "This one is my favorite." Pansy told her. Hermione snorted when she watched herself take Pansy into a waist deep fountain.

"Thank you." Hermione wiped at her eyes. "This was very thoughtful."

"What are they doing?" Blaise asked, nodding behind her. She looked over her shoulder to see Malfoy approaching their table with a short blonde girl. She wore a Slytherin scarf, and appeared to be shoving Draco across the room every time he attempted to escape.

"Oh, this will be good." Theo muttered, passing a galleon to Blaise.

"I apologize for the interruption on your birthday." Her voice was soft. "Draco needs to give you your gifts."

"Fuck off." He grumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets.

The blonde rolled her eyes. "Listen to me, Draco Malfoy. I did not trapeze all over Great Britain with you to find this for nothing, alright? I don't care what kind of spat you two are having. You will give her this damn present, or I will owl Narcissa and let her take care of it."

"I have no idea who you are, but you can put him in his place. I like that." Hermione stated, and extended her hand. "Hermione Granger."

"Astoria Greengrass. Pleased to meet you. This," She pulled a box from the bag Malfoy was holding. "Is from Narcissa." Astoria clasped her hands in front of her. "Draco wants to save his for last because he says it's the better of the two"

"I don't  _want_  to do anything. She wanted me to leave her alone, so I am." Astoria, in a move that made Hermione burst out in laughter, clapped a hand over his mouth.

"Please don't speak. Your company is so much more enjoyable when you don't open your mouth." Her voice was hard. "Mind your manners." Astoria knew about the fight then, judging from the way his eyes narrowed at her.

Hermione lifted the slid of the box carefully. The dainty box surely held some kind of jewelry, and she was terrified she might fumble and break whatever was inside. "It's a locket." She observed, leaving the box on the table and holding it by the thin chain. She'd never owned anything that was gold, much less anything as beautiful as this. The white gold was simple, something she preferred. On the inside of the locket, she saw a picture of her parents on the platform, the last time they had picked her up from Hogwarts. "Harry, look. It's my parents."

Her friend shook his head. "I see my parents." She froze. "This must be like the Mirror of Erised. It shows you what you most desire." She swallowed the lump in her throat.

"What do you see, Draco?" Theo asked then, fingers drumming against the table. She glared before lifting the locket to him.

"Chamber of Secrets." He said gruffly. Blaise's eyes shot open and she coughed on her own saliva.

"What's in that stuffy old room?" Draco shrugged at the question.

Hermione clasped the necklace around her neck and Malfoy handed her the bag. She turned sideways on the bench, one leg on either side. It was a good day to to need to wear her school skirt. She pulled out a copy of  _Hogwarts: A History._  "A book. Very original." She teased. "Thank you. Mine is getting worn out."

"Oh," He drawled. "You'll find that it's very original." He smirked as she squeaked. "Check for yourself."

"Draco, you did not." Astoria grinned as Hermione flipped through the first few blank pages. She froze, her heart beating wildly in her chest. "You did.  _You did._ " Before she could even think of why they were avoiding each other, or how being around him hurt her exponentially, she'd jumped up from her seat and thrown her arms around his neck.

"I thought you were going to hit me." His body shook with his deep laughter.

She laughed, and felt his arms very slowly come around her waist. She backed away before she could embarrass herself with getting too comfortable. "It's a perfect gift, but I can't accept this. I know what this is valued as, and you could have bought yourself a house instead." She closed the protective box, and held it out to him.

"No."

"I can't take this. It's too much."

He shook his head. "It's yours. If you keep harassing me over this, I'll buy you a house and fill it with first editions for the sole purpose of irritating you."

"You're insufferable." She gasped. "Thank you." He nodded, and then looked to Astoria. "I'm sorry for being a bitch to you." She offered. "To be clear, I'm still upset, but I shouldn't have taken it out on you." He only nodded, and she knew it wasn't the best place to have this conversation.

"You're forgiven." He rolled his eyes. Astoria jabbed her elbow into his ribs. "What now?" He grumbled.

"Apologize to Hermione right now. You were awful just the same." Theo and Blaise were stifling their snickers behind her.

"You weren't even there." He tried to brush her off.

"Apologize." She repeated, sounding dangerously like a mother hen. "Or I will tell her how your last two days have gone."

"Fine!" He shouted. "I am extremely sorry for saying it was your fault." Hermione nodded. She had the feeling that under the eyes of everyone around them, neither could voice their feelings. Harry cleared his throat, ending the awkward silence while Draco looked everywhere that wasn't her face.

"I think she has something for you, Hermione."

Astoria held out a small, red gift bag. "After all the time we spent searching for that book, it didn't feel right to show up empty handed. I asked around to see what you do in your free time. I thought you might like something productive." Hermione pulled a journal from the bag, with a set of her favorite brand of muggle pens. "If you don't like it, the receipt is at the bottom for you to return."

She turned the six pack of pens over in her hands. "Who told you to buy these?" She asked.

"Draco." Astoria told her, and the wry smile on her face told Hermione she knew exactly what she was doing. Cunning, indeed.

"They're my favorite." Hermione said finally. Ron was muttering something under his breath, asking how on earth Malfoy would know her favorites. "This journal is beautiful. I'll use it tonight."

"Yeah, you can write all about how Slytherin is going to crush Gryffindor in today's match." Theo said. Ron, Harry and Ginny jumped into an argument that they had daily.

"You knew these were my favorite." She said under her breath and he nodded. "You bought me a first edition of my favorite book."

"And?"

"You're the absolute worst!" She hissed and tickled his side when he laughed at her. "I'd like to talk about the fight with you when there's less people. I owe you a proper apology."

"I'll say you do, Granger." And that's the moment all the students and staff of Hogwarts: School of Witchcraft and Wizardry found out Draco Malfoy was ticklish.

* * *

Despite having attended so many Gryffindor matches, and listening to Lee Jordan's commentary over the years, Hermione still didn't understand the game itself. If she'd taken any interest in it, it would have been just as easy as any other obstacle. But like Divination, it wasn't her cup of tea.

She sat amongst her house, fiddling with the locket around her neck. Pansy sat in the seat beside her, a splash of green standing out against a sea of red. Hermione would have offered to sit on the other side, but she refrained. Ron would have an aneurysm, and she couldn't bring herself to sit opposite them. It worked fine since Pansy was just fine with letting her competitive streak show and cheering when Slytherin scored.

Gryffindor was safe. Gryffindor was mostly on the side of the Order of the Phoenix in the second great wizarding world. It's not the stereotype that all Slytherins are evil, or even the fact that their closest relatives might have been involved with Death Eaters. It was for the sole fact that her presence was a slap in the face to a small number of students. In some brazen, too public move, she'd admitted killing nine individuals on the opposing side.

Seated across the field from her, she could pick out the ones whose lives she'd irrevocably changed. She wasn't sure any of them knew, or if they did know and chose to ignore her.

Her loud statements in Draco's trials were not boasts, as Rita Skeeter proclaimed. She was wrecked. What could she say when the Daily Prophet asked her questions? That she was sorry? That she'd take it all back if she knew how she'd hate herself later? Skeeter had weaved a tale that grabbed attention.

There wasn't a handbook for how to go about living after a war. She'd looked at self help books published by muggles over the summer. There were books in her trunk detailing the behaviors of soldiers returning home from war, a phenomenon that was far more common in the muggle world.

"Merlin," Neville said. At least he had actually been paying attention to the game. "Did you see that?" Hermione shook her head, wrapping her arms around her waist. "Ron slammed into Malfoy. Nearly sent him off his broom."

"Oh, no." She muttered.

"Oh, yes." Pansy cheered as Draco sped past Ron, not choosing to return the favor to her relief. "Arse had it coming if you ask me."

"Good thing I didn't ask you then." Hermione told her, and turned her attention to the match. She winced when a bludger nearly blindsided Blaise, but he rose out of the way in time for it to smack Seamus instead.

"Don't look so worried. You'll get gray hair." Pansy's nose wrinkled in disgust. "Whatever happens to them can be fixed by Madame Pomfrey." Cheering erupted around them. "The snitch!" Pansy screamed, springing to her feet. "Draco, catch that son of a bitch!"

Harry and Draco both shot down towards the ground in front of where they were sitting. "Oh, fuck you, Harry." She grumbled. "Pull up, pull up, dammit." Hermione threw her hands up in frustration as Harry was knocked from his broom mere feet from the ground and Draco pounced on the snitch. "Well, fuck."

"We won!" Pansy shrieked, throwing her hands up. Hermione couldn't help but grin at her enthusiasm. "Come on," She led Hermione down to the pitch.

She walked away from the Slytherin crowd that was throwing their seeker into the air with loud cheers. "Next time?" She offered hopelessly at the beaten look on Ron's face.

"Next time." He told her. "Do you have plans this afternoon?" She shook her head, sliding her palms in her back pockets. They hadn't spoken since her infamous breakdown over dinner. "Can we talk? I can't stand fighting with you. Feels like half of me is missing."

She smiled. "Yeah, I'd like that. You should let Lavender know. She's waiting for you back there." Hermione pointed to her. She was stewing in jealousy, arms folded across her chest and she was tapping her foot impatiently. "Best not to keep her waiting. Come by my common room later." At the look on his face, she reassured him. "Malfoy will be in the Slytherin common room with his teammates. Don't worry about him."

"I'll see you soon, Mione." She smiled and didn't flinch for the first time when he wrapped one arm around her. His broom was gripped in his other hand.

From where he was being tossed in the air, Malfoy caught her eye. Her breath caught in her throat. He wasn't looking at anyone but her, and merlin, he looked furious. He nodded to Ron's retreating figure and she shook her head.

With her heart pounding in her chest she lifted her fingers to the intricate locket around her neck. She didn't need to open it to know what she would see, and the thought was terrifying. She already knew in her current state of mind, she would see the two of them wedged in that tiny crevice in the Chamber of Secrets caught up in the sort of passion that burned the world down.

It would be too much. She'd already burned up once.


	12. Chapter Twelve

The Slytherins took to the dungeons to celebrate their win against Gryffindor, while the rival house was left on the pitch. Hermione waved goodbye to them as she made her way back into the castle. Ron was with Lavender, and Hermione had her doubts he would come to her dorm. If the other girl had any pull in his actions, he wouldn't. Harry and Ginny had escaped after the game, linked by their hands.

She didn't loathe being alone as much as she thought she would. Initially it had been terrifying to sit alone. Her nerves were coiled so tightly she might break. The smallest of noises bringing a curse to the tip of her tongue. To say she was stable would be overly optimistic. Her way of coping with the war, and what it left in it's wake had been wildly irrational, and so very unlike her. She locked it away in a neat little box, sitting on a shelf in the recesses of her mind.

The subconscious, she found, had a nasty way of dredging up things best left alone. Her night terrors were frequent, and the one time she hadn't woken in a cold sweat was the night she slept in Malfoy's bed earlier this week. There was something soothing about meeting the day while among the dark emerald sheets that smelled of cologne and firewhiskey they had drunk hours earlier.

Hermione walked through the quiet corridors, hands buried in the pockets of her jacket. Time spent alone wasn't her favorite, but she could keep busy. She made a list in her head of things she could do while waiting to see if Ron showed his face. Write a thank you letter to Narcissa first and then make her way to the owlery. She did want to read through her new, or old, depending how you looked at it, copy of Hogwarts: A History. She'd heard there were bits in the book that weren't in the mass circulated ones that were in the library of the school.

What if she found something new? Something the boys didn't know, and something Dumbledore had never told them? The prospect was thrilling. Her lazy afternoon would be fine, so long as she kept herself busy.

The Heads' room was chilly. She lit a fire with her wand and settled into her spot in the couch, with the journal and pens that Astoria had purchased for her. While it was a thoughtful gift, especially since she was sure Astoria had gotten lost in a random office goods store, she was certain it was so she could brag for Draco. He'd picked up a thing or two about her two years earlier. Anyone in their year knew how much she'd read that book over the years. Ron was always teasing her over her random facts.

For someone to notice her favorite pens thought, that was a shock. For someone to remember it was more surprising. Malfoy was anything but predictable, she was discovering.

Ron stepped through the portrait as she finished writing her letter to Narcissa, and just stood in the entry way. "Have a seat." She told him. "I'm just finishing this letter and we can talk." He sat on the couch across from her, scanning the room, his eyes settling on the bedroom door that wasn't hers. "I told you he wouldn't be here, Ron."

"I want to apologize, but I don't know how." He blurted. Hermione sealed her letter into an envelope and set in on the glass table between them. "I've been horrible to you."

"Yes, you have." She remarked. "Your comment at dinner, that was the last straw. I couldn't take it anymore. You talk like the war was a school dance. You brag that you won, but you don't talk about the losses, how it affected us. To have said I was giving them a taste of their own medicine, that wasn't your story to tell."

"I didn't think you had done anything wrong. I thought it had to be done, and you just handled it, like you always do." The tops of his cheeks were red.

"The first time I used the killing curse, I wanted to use it on myself after. In Godric's Hollow, it was Harry, or it was that Death Eater. I made a choice in the heat of the moment."

"Then why continue?" His voice was softer than it had ever been, as he was in uncharted territory. "If it hurt you, why?"

"I'm selfish. I didn't want Harry, or you to be taken from me. I wanted to stay with you all, as we always had. So I chose to take lives into my own hands so that I could. I'm no hero, and I wish you'd stop treating me like I am."

"They killed muggleborns, Hermione. They were monsters." His voice was a whisper.

She took a deep breath. "I've had a long time to think about this. Hate isn't born, Ron. It's taught. Before they were taught to be Death Eaters, they were someone's parents, maybe their sibling, or aunt, or even a best friend. I can't say that they didn't wish the same fate on me, but that's what made you and Harry different. You didn't wish death on them, not really. I've known you for so long, and I know you've said if the time came you could do it."

"I couldn't." Ron said. "When Fred died, I wanted every single last one of them to die. But I wasn't strong enough for that."

She shook her head. "Killing an enemy isn't strength." She told him, her heart thundering in her chest. A shudder went through her. "I had choices. I was sure I would never use an unforgivable curse, that if the time came, I'd be willing to die completely good. That was a fool's' errand. When he had his wand pointed at Harry, all I could think was not my family. I didn't care that he had a family, and I realized why they say you have to mean it."

"I had no idea how you felt, Mione." He swallowed. "I'm such a prat."

She smiled. "I didn't get a chance to explain. I'll admit my explanation of why I didn't want to be touched came out horribly wrong." He smiled at her small laugh. "Ginny used to silence our room at the Burrow because I screamed so much during nightmares. Waking up after it felt like Bellatrix had been looming over me, and then trying to pursue a relationship, it was never going to work."

"What about now? I'm beginning to understand, and I'd like to earn another chance with you." His bottom lip quivered, successfully breaking her heart. "I can't put into words how sorry I am."

"I'm sorry too." She nodded, sniffling as a sob wrenched free. "I never want to lose you as my friend, but I also never want you to be more than that. I tried, I did. It's what we expected, but my heart wasn't in it, Ron."

He nods, hanging his head. "I always thought it was something like that. Probably why I acted like such an arse to you too. When did you stop feeling that way?"

"If I had to choose when, I'd say probably the end of sixth year. Before you ask," She held up her hand. "It wasn't because of Theo." She wasn't sure what to call their relationship, but it had merely been physical, and it never swayed how she felt.

"That's fair." He told her. "I cheated on you."

"I know you did."

"You never said anything?"

She shrugged. "I didn't care because I don't feel like our relationship was ever real. We weren't happy, and we deserved to be. But you're stunt at the Leaky Cauldron was uncalled for and hurt me quite a bit." His cheeks were red. "I'm sure it was Lavender's idea to have loud, obnoxious sex in the room beside mine, but you went along with it."

She's calmer than she'd imagined she'd be when this finally came to the surface. "I don't care who you date, Ron. You're my best friend, always have been, but I won't have anything to do with you if you ever hurt me like that again. No more siding with Lavender if she's going to be a venomous little bitch to me. I won't take that, not for anyone."

"That works out pretty well, because we just broke up."

Her eyes widened to an impossible degree. "You didn't break up with her because of me, right?" She stumbled over the words, trying to read his expression.

"Not for the reason you think. I may have asked for another chance, but I never expected to get one. No, I told her that I was going to make things right with you and if she didn't like it, she could leave. She left."

Hermione laughed. "Well, thank Merlin for that! I didn't want to be civil with her anyways!"

"About being civil." He interrupted. "What the hell is going on with Malfoy?" Her smile slipped off her face. "He hexed me the other night."

"Did you deserve it?" She asked carefully. Their conversation had gone infinitely better than she had foreseen, but she couldn't tell him anything about Malfoy. She was sure he didn't know anything had ever occurred between them that would be considered romance, and it made it even harder. The truth had a way of coming out and it would break Ron's heart.

"I haven't done anything to Malfoy."

"Since you brought him up. You should have never mentioned the night at Malfoy Manor to Draco." He grinded his teeth together in an awful sound as his mouth snapped shut.

"Since when is he Draco?" He countered.

"Ron." She groaned, wanting to take the nearest pillow and smother herself. Of course he was observant now. Of bloody course. "I don't know. A while."

"Does he call you Hermione?"

"Sometimes. It depends on the situation." It was always when he was gentle, completely unlike himself. When he comforted her in the quidditch showers after her panic attack. Or when they were pushed so close together in the hole in the wall, that she couldn't tell where she ended and he began. "Does it matter? You shouldn't poke at a dragon. Honestly, Ron."

"He acts like you're his to protect. I don't like it, and I especially don't trust him. He never cared before." He had, just not openly to her.

"A lot has changed. He saved my life. We fought side by side when Lucius," She broke off, taking a deep breath. That bastard always got her blood boiling; this was hardly the time. "We look out for eachother."

Ron pondered that for a moment before opening his mouth again. "Are you dating Malfoy? Like in secret?" A triumphant grin settled on his face as she choked on her own saliva. It was an honest answer as they weren't dating. That term seemed so juvenile right then. "That was some gift he gave you, Mione. I don't believe he bought that for a friend."

"I'm not his girlfriend!" She snapped.

"But you want to be." His statement was a test. A test that she helplessly failed and his hands trembled at her silence. "Like I've been repeating, I don't understand how you could enjoy his company. I can see he is still an arsehole, but he's not like that to you."

"So he's less of an arse to me, Ron. That doesn't mean we're in a secret relationship. Nothing is going to happen there, okay?"

"You've never been a good liar." He laughed.

"He doesn't see me that way, Ron. You have no idea what you're talking about." She crossed her arms across her chest and leaned back on the couch.

"You haven't seen the way he looks at you when you're not looking. All I have to say is that I loathe him, but I will be civil, but the second you two aren't friends, I'm going to punch him right in his pointy nose."

"His nose isn't pointy." She mumbled.

"You've just proven my point." He laughed at her angry glare. "I'll see you tonight, Hermione." She nodded, as he stood, without trying to hug her. It was nice to be around him without the pressure of touch. "Do you have any plans until tonight?" He asked her then, looking down on her. "I mean, I have been freshly dumped. Could use a shoulder to cry on."

She snorted. "You've been dumped by Lavender once before." Hermione smiled. "I need to go to the owlery if you'd like to come along." He held his arm out to her, bowing as if the perfect gentleman.

"My lady."

"You're a piece of work, Weasley." She laughed, looping her arms through his. She relished in the feeling of her stomach clenching from laughter as they emerged from the portrait. "I could use your help, actually." She told him. "I have to carry a delivery back to my dorm, and it would help to have an extra set of hands." He nodded.

"Can I ask you something?" Ron asked her, feeling her shoulders fall. "Ginny let it slip about your patronus."

"Or lack thereof," She corrected with a heavy sigh. "I couldn't tell you when it happened." She kept her head down, knowing the pitiful look she'd be met with. "It hurts, and I have to believe I'll be able to cast the charm again. I hope it's sooner rather than later."

"You've always accomplished whatever you set your mind on, Mione. You don't have to worry about that, and I'm not asking you to talk to me about it. I'm worried about Goyle. Ginny said he threatened you."

It wasn't a surprise Ginny had told him. Of course, Hermione knew that it hadn't been a simple slip of the tongue. Her fiery, red headed friend had quite the temper, and she was protective of her loved ones. From her standpoint, the more people who believe Hermione might be in danger meant at least they could look out for her.

"While I appreciate your concern, Ronald." He winced at her formality. "I'm more than capable of taking care of myself. As my memory serves, I've given Goyle a reason to want me dead."

"Hermione."

"Ronald," She mimicked. "Not that it will make you feel the slightest bit better, but Goyle followed Malfoy into our dorm under the disillusionment charm that same day." His eyes widened, just a fraction, and he tensed beside her, his right hand coming up to squeeze her arm. "I wasn't there, but Malfoy told me he tried to leave his father's mask in the common room. It's just a scare tactic; you know as well as I do that Gregory Goyle isn't capable of hatching his own plans."

"It would make me feel better if Malfoy had cursed him." He muttered. "Didn't he?"

She shook her head. "He probably would have, if it weren't for the trace on his wand. He has that year of probation." She explained. No doubt Ron hadn't paid one lick of attention at his sentencing. "I don't know what he did; I didn't ask. All I asked was whether he let him walk away, which he did not."

"That bastard won't be able to walk if I see him around you." She smiled. "Try not not to egg him on, yeah?"

"I'll be honest." She replied, her smile widening at his exasperation. "I'm not scared of him, Ron. We're in Hogwarts. I'm the safest I could be here." He couldn't agree with that, but he didn't attempt to sway her thoughts. "How do you feel about a walk down by the lake?"

"Sounds fine."

In the owlery, Astoria was attaching a small note to the leg of a white owl that reminded Hermione of Hedwig. "Thought you'd be celebrating." Hermione told her. The politeness in her voice was strained. She didn't even know this younger girl, but she'd gone out of her way to whip Draco into line, and she appreciated it.

"It's rather dull." She replied, handing a treat to the owl. "After six years, the celebrations are always the same."

Whatever possessed Ron to extend an invitation to her, Hermione had no bloody idea. He'd been rather prejudiced against the Slytherin house since entering Hogwarts. "If you don't have plans, we're going for a walk. If you'd like company."

Hermione chuckled as the tops of his cheeks flushed, warming up. "That would be lovely." She replied. "I need a jacket from my dorm though. Would you mind walking with me?"

Oh she minded alright. "Sure." Hermione forced out when Ron looked to her for answers. "Just one moment though." Hermione stepped up to the owl that she recognized, the one that delivered Narcissa's letters. "Please take this to Narcissa Malfoy."

"You still write to her?" Ron asked.

"Yes." She answered. "I needed to thank her for this necklace. It's lovely." Astoria smiled, her eyes twinkling. "I know I thanked you earlier for the pens, but again, thank you."

"It's my pleasure. How is your birthday?" Astoria walked on the right side of her, at the end of their small group.

"Good," Hermione answered. "I'm hoping tonight is great as well." The other girl hummed as she led them down a winding staircase to the Slytherin dormitories.

It would be very nice to admit her stomach wasn't twisting at the thought of stepping into the heart of the place she did not belong. She'd just told Ron she wasn't scared, and truly she wasn't. Hermione wasn't afraid of being assaulted, whether it be Goyle, or another individual who harbored a deep seated hatred for her.

Seeing the face of the relatives of the dearly departed-lives she'd snuffed out like a candle in the night-scared her. Her own guilt was nauseating.

Astoria laid her hand on Hermione's forearm. "I'll only be a minute if you'd prefer to wait outside. Draco told me." She ought to have been angry for him being so open with facts that didn't even belong to him, but she couldn't be. "He didn't say much, just that it was hard."

"Thank you." Hermione murmured. "I think it would be best for me to wait here." Astoria gave a quick nod before disappearing through the portrait. "You sure move on fast." She whirled to face Ron the moment the blonde was out of earshot.

Ron's face turned a comical shade of red. "That obvious?"

"Tone it down. She's my friend, I think." Hermione crinkled her nose at his laughter. "And to be completely open with you, she seems to be rather close friends with Malfoy, who coincidentally, is not your biggest fan." She paused. "Her friendship with him may work in your favor."

"How do you figure?" If she were any other witch, she'd have withered under his glare.

She shrugged nonchalantly. "At least she's already accustomed to dealing with arseholes such as yourself and Malfoy." He spluttered, pointing an accusing finger at her as she snickered.

* * *

After a rather dull walk, in which Ron attempted to impress Astoria only to be single handedly ignored, Hermione decided it was time to make their way to the Hogwarts kitchens. "Malfoy didn't invite you?" Hermione echoed her words. "What an arse. I'd love it if you could come." Hermione nodded, telling herself that perhaps extending her friendships was a good idea.

"He doesn't think about those things. He just assumes that I will come, since he mentioned it in passing." Astoria smiled.

"Such manners." Hermione muttered, earning a loud giggle from the other girl. "Heard about that, did you?"

"Oh, yes." She replied, eyeing Ron as he left to grab one of the bags from Winky. "I'm not familiar with boundaries, so please forgive me if I overstep. Draco is like my older brother, if I'd ever had one. He needed advice, so I hope you aren't angry he's told me anything."

"I'm not." She said slowly. "Everyone needs someone to talk to, I think."

She nods. "On that note, I've never courted him either, but just so you don't think I'm lying, I did have a crush on him once. I was eleven." Hermione snorted, and felt her sides shake from laughter. "My father wanted to arrange a marriage during the war." She admitted.

"You're not obligated to tell me anything, Astoria. He's not mine." She scoffed as Ron started to come their way again. "Don't give me that look."

"Draco doesn't listen to me when I tell him that full disclosure is best. I believe that though, so I told you. You can't tell me, not honestly, that your heart didn't feel like it were being squeezed when I dragged him to the table this morning. What he told you the other night, it's true. Try not to hate him."

"If he didn't make it so damn easy." She mumbled, taking a bag from Ron. "Anything else?" She asked.

"This is the last one, but surely this isn't all of it?"

"Oh, no," Hermione laughed. "The rest is in my room. Theo said he was getting everything ready with Blaise, but I'm not sure what they have planned." She'd hoped Ron might let her in on the secret, or maybe Astoria if she knew anything.

Three hours. If what Theo promised was accurate, it would be a birthday to remember.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now I've finished moving the story onto this site as well. I meant to do it earlier, but slacked off. If you like it, I'm super glad! I update on Wednesdays. Which if you really liked this, is only two days away, maybe one because I get impatient.


	13. Chapter 13

  
  


Pansy and Ginny had shoved her backwards into the Heads’ bathroom as they marched into the common room, flanked by Blaise and Theo, the rest of their lot trailing behind them. From all the rustling on the other side of the door she assumed they were gathering the ridiculous amount of liquor she’d stored in her bedroom days earlier. 

 

Pansy left her no wiggle room as she informed her that she had brought her clothes, and she would look too cute for Draco to resist. Hermione’s eyes narrowed. “What?” Pansy brushed her hair out of her face, avoiding eye contact once she realized her mistake. “Zabini and his fucking mouth, I swear.” Hermione hissed. “Leave it alone, Pans. There’s nothing there but disappointment.” 

 

Ginny shook her head. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.” 

 

“Nothing helps me sleep at night.” She grumbled, hopping up onto the counter. “Blaise tell you about it too?” Ginny nods, sliding down the wall. 

 

“Sure made his comment at breakfast make sense.” Ginny told her. “He saw the Chamber of Secrets in that locket of yours. I didn’t really see the allure, but being trapped with a basilisk does that to you.” A bubbly laugh slipped out of her. “Ron told me he talked to you today.” 

 

“I didn’t tell him it happened, Ginny.” The redhead sighed, waving her wand, mumbling a silencing spell. If she knew her brother, which she did, he’d take the opportunity to listen to their girl talks. “I didn’t want to hurt him.” 

 

Ginny shrugs. “He knows it was never meant to be, and I think he’d understand.” Pansy scoffed. “Look, I’m not saying he’d be happy about it at first. I guarantee he will find out and you can bet he’ll do a lot more than tell Malfoy to eat slugs this time.” She arched an eyebrow at Hermione’s snort. “I think it would be better if he hears it from you, rather than find out any other way.” 

 

Hermione nodded along. “I know.” She murmured. “I don’t see a point in telling him now, especially when there’s nothing between Malfoy and I but the past. And it will stay in the past.” She forced out. 

 

“That’s bullshit.” Pansy slammed her hand down on the side of the tub. She’d taken to just sitting inside of it, legs swung over the sides, crossed elegantly. “You’re brilliant, Hermione. Let’s just cut the nerves out here. You feel something-”

 

“That doesn’t matter anymore!” Hermione interjected, dragging her fingers through the messy curls she was sporting from lying on the couch for the last two hours. “Whatever it was, if it even was anything mind you-”

 

“And when Draco thought he was going to die, he sought you out. He took Narcissa to the Order, told them how Granger knew what was going on, and he chased after you like a bat out of hell.” She finished hotly. 

 

“You weren’t there.” Hermione groaned. 

 

“I was there for every other day of his life, before he cut ties with everyone he’d ever known in Hogwarts.” She continued. “We’re like this,” She intertwines her fingers, and Ginny snorts. “Oh, shut your mouth. It was one time and like you have any room to talk. You shagged McLaggen in the quidditch showers!” Hermione dissolved into laughter. Pansy took a deep breath, dragging her hands down her face, exasperated. “He’s never had to tell me how he felt because I know him. I saw his lingering gazes, which by the way is completely odd for him. He’s so-” 

 

“Arrogant? Cocky? In your face?” Hermione drawled, watching a smile snake its way onto her friends mouth. “Draco Malfoy was an even bigger asshole to me in sixth year, and while I wanted to choke the life out of him for that, I know why now. I appreciate him, I do, but I’m not going to entertain the thought that we magically pursue whatever the bloody fuck happened below this school.

 

“I’d sooner tell him that Theo and I shagged on his bed because he made me extra furious one day in sixth year.” She shouted, thankful for the silencing spell, and thankful she was finally getting this out of her head. 

 

Pansy and Ginny both blanched. Their eyes shot open and Ginny let her head fall back against the wall her sides shaking with laughter. “You have to say that to him, that last bit.” Ginny choked out, wiping her eyes where they had watered. 

 

“Not to save my life.” Hermione shook her head quickly. “That sounds like an awful idea. Worse than awful actually.”

 

“Think of the look on his face.” Pansy gasped. “Bloody brilliant, Weasley. Bravo.” She clapped her hands in a slow fashion, grinning at the blush that pooled in Hermione’s cheeks. “Can you imagine the look on his face? It would be like he just got slapped with reality.”

 

“He doesn’t care who I’ve been with, you know that, right?” Hermione was met with awkward silence as Pansy narrowed her eyes, fingers grasping the edge of the porcelain tub tightly. 

 

“You can’t be serious.” She muttered. Ginny looked as if she were close to bursting into laughter. “Oh, he cares alright. He may not think less of you, which believe me, he thinks quite highly of you.” 

 

“You’re so dramatic.” Hermione scolded. “Can you get to the point before I die?” 

 

Pansy shot her an obscene gesture. “He’s jealous, you idiot.” Hermione could only shake her head. “He’s not going to ignore his best mate, but they’re currently not speaking to one another. That’s all on Draco, who knew you were with a Slytherin-” 

 

“What do you mean he fucking knew?” Hermione gasped. “We were careful.” 

 

“The Amortentia. He knew what he smelled was you, and he caught on. Probably your perfume lingering on his bed, you bitch.” Pansy joked.  Her cheeks were red as she took the new information. “He didn’t expect it to be Theo, and he’s not angry. How can he be when Theo is the one who suggested to end it right then? So, he’s jealous. I mean, I’m sure all he’s thought of since he found out is how it was his best friend who had your legs wrapped around his waist, pounding into you-” 

 

“Oh my god. You are the worst!” Hermione yelled, throwing a perfume bottle directly at her. “You are so vulgar.” She growled. 

 

“Oh?” Pansy asked, tilting her head to the side, hearing the perfume bottle shatter beside her ear, eyebrow raised. “You’re imagining it was Draco now, aren’t you? Never fear, my dear. I’m sure he’s willing to oblige.” 

 

“I’m going to murder you in the slowest way possible, I swear on all that is holy.” Hermione said between gritted teeth, but she couldn’t stay angry. “Why don’t you do my fucking hair or something?” Pansy pulled herself forward, landing on her feet. “I hate you.” 

 

“You love me and wouldn’t have me any other way.” She replied sweetly, pulling her wand from the counter. 

 

“Not true.” Hermione corrected immediately. “I’d have you as a mute if I had my way.” 

  
  


It had been Pansy’s idea to use magic to straighten her hair, but she quickly vetoed the decision. While her curls had been a staple for childhood bullies, she found that she quite liked them now. They weren’t quite as unruly anymore, still more wild than she’d have liked. Like that morning, it was chilly as the sun went down, so she’d casted a warming charm beneath her winter leggings. 

 

The proof that Pansy did take her own taste into consideration was the fact that she’d brought Hermione a jumper instead of a complicated, not to mention expensive, blouse. It was a dark green, which she’d rolled her eyes over. It was soft against her arms as she crossed them across her chest. Her friend was right though. Draco had stolen a number of glances her way that she’d barely caught. 

 

It set her chest on fire to have his eyes roaming over her as she attempted she didn’t know. Pansy wrapped a blindfold around her eyes, gently guiding her through the hallways of Hogwarts. They weren’t taking her to Hogsmeade after all. Theo was the one to state it just wouldn’t have been private enough, and Hermione would have closed in on herself as she tended to do in public. 

 

“Happy birthday, Hermione.” Pansy told her while she removed the blindfold from across her eyes. 

 

The Great Lake had never looked so inviting, as if there weren’t creatures below that were less than desirable. Her lips parted, a small exhale, as she took in her surroundings. There was a fire, which several of her classmates sat around. Someone had used magic to string lights throughout the trees and through the air, as if she were at home in her bedroom, which she’d strung with when she was nine. She was certain only Ron knew about that, and it somehow made it even better. 

 

Not that they had any control over the moon, but the image of the moon’s reflection in the water was stunning. “I don’t know what to say.” She mumbled, kicking at the dirt. Everyone was looking to her with smiles as she wiped stray tears from her eyes. “It’s perfect. Thank you so much.” 

 

“None of that.” Theo told her. “No crying tonight.” He pulled her into a tight hug. 

 

It wasn’t weird to think that sometime around this time two years ago, they’d probably been snogging in the prefects’ bath. In fact, Theo remaining her best friend had never felt strained, or awkward at all. Hermione chalked it up to the fact that, forgive her crass terminology, they had only been fuck buddies. It happened once, and then kept repeating itself in a number of circumstances. 

 

She caught a glimpse of Malfoy, who stood a few feet away, a glass in his hand that was nearing the bottom. He’d already had a glass, likely firewhiskey, and she knew that he always filled the glass nearly to the brim. His jaw was clenched, fingers gripping the glass so tightly, the thought passed through her mind that it could shatter beneath the pressure. 

 

It didn’t take much to know his thoughts. Theo had adopted a different role in her life after the end of their physical relationship, and she preferred it this way. She’d never had a brother, and she couldn’t state confidently that oh, Theo is like a brother to me. He was her best friend, that just so happened to have seen her naked. 

 

Multiple times. 

 

“Malfoy looks furious.” She whispered under her breath, pulling away from his embrace. His eyes settled on the blond, and narrowed sharply. “Don’t fight on my account.” She spoke softly. “I don’t want that.” 

 

He chuckled. “I won’t. Go get a drink or something, yeah?” It took two strides for Theo to reach him, and he muttered something she couldn’t hear. Witnessing the two walk away from those who would eavesdrop if they could made her stomach twist. Whatever they had to say, it couldn’t be good. 

 

“I’m going to kill you.” She told Blaise. “I knew you couldn’t keep a secret.” He grinned, offering a shot glass to her. “Who all did you tell?” 

 

“Our lovely friends.” He informed her as she tipped the glass to her lips. She winced at the the way it burned down her throat. “What do you think they’re saying?” He pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. 

 

“I’m willing to bet that Theo is giving him the explanation that we are best friends, and Draco should really stop being an asshole.” He poured two more shots, extending his to clink with hers before they downed them both. “If he isn’t telling him that, then I will.” She shrugs. 

 

“Remember the dare you wouldn’t take in sixth year when we were here last?” He suddenly asked her, lips turning into a grin. “Care to make that bet?” Her cheeks flushed a dark red. 

 

“It’s freezing.” She commented, but her voice lacked resistance. “I’m not the only one stripping, let’s establish that now.” 

 

“I’ll join you, obviously. I’m sure Theo will as well.” She glared at the mention of him being anywhere near her when she took off her clothes. “With all these reckless Gryffindors you call your friends, I’m sure we can work something out. What do you think?” 

 

“I think I need more liquor before I jump into the Great Lake in my underwear.” She laughed when Ron jerked from the end of the table, sloshing his drink on Lavender. “Also,” She lowered her voice to Blaise. “Who invited her to my birthday?” 

 

“Forget about that.” He tells her, and leans across the table to pour shots. “Bet I can finish mine before you can.” 

 

Her eyes narrowed dangerously, fingers twitching towards the first glass. He knew her well, and that she couldn’t resist a challenge. “You’re on.” She spoke confidently, snatching the first glass from the table and swallowing the awful taste. 

 

Vodka. It was stronger than firewhiskey. She’d stop tasting it after a few shots anyways, so she rapidly tossed the glasses back. “You’re falling behind, Zabini.” Around them, people were cheering loudly. Pansy was yelling her name. He held his hands up in defeat as she swallowed her last shot with difficulty. 

 

“You drunk enough?” He asked. She snorted. 

 

“You only goaded me into a contest so I’d go faster?” 

 

“Obviously. As if I’m going to outdrink you ever. You’re a bloody alcoholic.” He teased her. “We should really grab Theo and Draco.” She shrugged. Malfoy wouldn’t participate she was sure. 

 

“I’ll grab them.” She sounded far more confident than she felt as she made her way to them. She instantly missed the warmth and laughter behind her. “Hey!” She yelled over Theo’s shouting. “In case you missed it, this is  _ my birthday _ . So it would be swell if the two of you could stop being assholes and get ready.” 

 

Whatever she’d been planning on saying, it certainly hadn’t been that. Her head felt heavy, as she started to feel the effects of the alcohol. Draco stared at her, eyes softening at the sight of her and her heart hammered in her chest. Theo pivoted towards her. “Get ready for what?” He asked her. 

 

“Late night swim.” She told him. “I decided to take Blaise up on that bet.” His eyes flew open, his jaw going slack. “I need to talk to Malfoy.” Theo didn’t budge. “ _ Go.” _ He left her standing awkwardly in front of Draco, with her arms folded across her chest. 

 

“You’re about to fall over.” He stated, watching her sway from side to side. “What bet are you rambling about?” 

 

“Shut up.” She stomped up to him, pushing his shoulders backwards. “You don’t get to be an asshole to Theo because we’ve fucked.” She informed him, taking pleasure when his jaw set. “He’s your best friend, and I’m what? Some girl you kissed? It’s not like it’s never happened before. Guess what though, he’s my best friend too.” 

 

“If this is your idea of that apology you promised me, you’re doing a shite job.” He told her, one of his hands finding hers. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t talk about yourself as if you’re a random girl I decided to snog.” 

 

“Aren’t I?” She scoffed. 

 

“Don’t ask me questions you already know the answer to.” He looked down at her. “What’s this bet?” 

 

“We’re going swimming.” She told him then, a mischievous grin twisting her lips. His reaction would be priceless. “Strip.” 

 

“Excuse me?” He must have misheard her. “Granger, if you wanted-” She cut off his attempt to tease her about wanting to see him in his boxers. Without another word, she grabbed the hem of her shirt and tore it over her head. He stared at her, his gaze trailing over her hips where her leggings clung to her, up her abdomen, and over the swell of her breasts. “Fuck,” She heard him mutter under his breath. 

 

“If you’re coming, take your clothes off.” She told him before turning away from him. “That’s the bet.” Leaves crunched beneath his shoes as he followed her back to their group. She was grateful most of her friends had already removed their clothes. 

 

Hermione tossed her jumper onto the table, and slipped her boots off, keeping her wand concealed securely inside of them. Her leggings came off next, and she was too drunk to care that multiple sets of eyes were watching her movements. 

 

Malfoy shrugged out of his jacket, and unbuttoned his shirt, tossing them both onto the pile on the table. Theo whistled low, under his breath, just to infuriate the man beside her. “Do you want to jump from the same spot as last time?” She asked Blaise. 

 

Her stomach was a bundle of nerves as they neared the edge. She took a step backwards, colliding with a hard chest. She didn’t have to look back when she heard Draco’s chuckle from  under his breath. “Ladies first, Granger.” He seized her by her hips, taking two long strides to the edge and hurled the two of them straight over the ledge. 

 

She shook from laughter as they dropped into the water; he’d looked over her in amusement during their free fall. They swam out of reach as their classmates jumped. She watched Astoria, who was hesitant to jump, linger towards the edge. Ron was talking to her, motioning towards the edge. 

 

Whether Astoria agreed with Ron flinging her off of a cliff, Hermione couldn’t be sure, but the other girl laughed as she came up for air. 

 

“You’re a prat.” She told Draco. “I would have jumped.” 

 

He shook his head, water droplets dripping from his hair onto his face. She was treading water, peering up at her through her eyelashes. “Theo would have done it if I hadn’t.” He finally told her. “Couldn’t pass up the opportunity to throw you from a cliff, I guess.” He shrugged, a smirk settling on his face. 

 

“I think it’s more that you didn’t want Theo to touch me.” She admitted, watching how his eyes darkened. “More that you didn’t want to watch him put his hands on my hips. Am I right?” The slight waves pushed her closer to him, her leg catching his under the water. 

 

“You’re drunk.” 

 

“I’m right.” She started, pushing past him. “I didn’t believe you were jealous, not really. Pansy was right apparently.” 

 

“And what did Pansy say?” Malfoy looked to see if anyone was watching them, pleased to see they were too busy with their partners, or trying to find one. Crimson pooled in her cheeks and she looked away. “Granger.” He teased, lifting her chin with one finger. 

 

“I’m not sure I should say. It’s embarrassing.” Even so, she couldn’t tear her eyes from his. No matter how harsh he could be, his eyes always gave him away. “You want to know? Word for word? Pansy can be rather vulgar.” 

 

“Humor me.” He replied, darkly. It was the haze of the alcohol making him pull her closer, flush against him in the water. The skin to skin contact felt like she was playing with fire. She should lean in, capture his lips with her own and she should tangle her fingers in his hair that she already knew was soft. 

 

She cleared her throat. “She attempted to convince me you were jealous of Theo. She might have said and I quote ‘I mean, I’m sure all he’s thought of since he found out is how it was his best friend who had your legs wrapped around his waist, pounding into you.’” His eyes flicked down towards her lips and he slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her chest against his.  

 

“Where else did this conversation go?” 

 

“Of how I should admit there is something between her and I told her I’d rather tell you,” Her mouth snapped shut, and she gritted her teeth. Now that she’d been so obvious, he’d never let it go. “I already know you’re going to ask, so I’m just going to tell you. I promise you that you’re not going to like it one bit. If you were jealous,” He glared at her. “It’s only going to make it worse.” 

 

“Go on.” He sounded calm, but she saw how his posture stiffened. 

 

“Well,” She breathed. “There was one day in sixth year that you were particularly horrible to me, and calling me a filthy mudblood. I might have had sex on your bed.” 

 

“You  _ what _ ?” He said in disbelief. “The only one having sex on my bed should be me, Granger. Merlin.” She laughed. “I’m waiting for my apology.” 

 

“You can wait until you die. I’m not the least bit sorry. Maybe if you’d told me the truth sooner.” Hermione snickered at the surprise passing over his face. “I’m sorry for screaming at you.” She looked anywhere but his face. “You didn’t deserve that. I was angry I’d gotten my hopes up.” 

 

He sighed. “I didn’t reply to your letter, or you gift because I wasn’t home. I left to search for my father.” Her eyes widened. “If you’d known, you would have wanted to come with me.” 

 

“Would that have been so horrible?” She chewed on her bottom lip. 

 

“He’s a psychopath, and I didn’t want you anywhere near him if I did manage to locate him. Which I didn’t.” 

 

“You’re not allowed to make those choices for me, Draco.” She whispered. “You don’t get to tell me to date Ron because you’re afraid of your own feelings. You don’t get to keep me in the dark because you want to take on your father alone. You should have been honest with me.” 

 

“If I were honest with you, I’d have never left you to begin with.” She swallowed. “Shit, see, I shouldn’t have said that either. You just, you make me,  _ fuck. _ ” 

 

“You don’t have to tell me anything else. I understand.” He nodded. “The other are swimming to the shore. We should join them.” 

 

“Of course.” 

 

They gathered back on the top of the cliff, drying themselves with their wands and slipping back into their clothes. Glass bottles littered the table. She bent down to grab her boots, when Malfoy tapped her shoulder. “I forgot to tell you. Those leggings, as you called them, make your arse look good.” He smirked at her, and Pansy caught her eye from where she stood. He friend was grinning like an idiot. 

 

She slipped her jumped over her head, the knit top barely catching on the metal clasp of her bra. It was a good night to have spent with her closest friends, excluding Lavender. She’d only shown up because of Ron, and had accepted her disappointment when he paid her no mind. She was listening to Theo tell an embellished story, as he had the habit of doing, when Malfoy’s head snapped up, his mouth pressed into a hard line. 

 

He looked to her immediately as she reached into her boot, taking the tip of her wand between her thumb and index finger. 

 

There were some things she would never forget, and the remnants of torture were embedded so deeply within her, she was certain she’d remember it in death. Because of all the things she’d managed to forget tonight, the feeling of the cruciatus curse ripping through her body was not one of them. 

 

And just like she remembered, the first one made her want to inflict death, and the second made her pray for it. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On Wednesday's we update.   
> Please, please, please let me know what you thought! Next chapter is written for next week!


	14. Chapter Fourteen

He knew Granger could withstand torture, and that nothing would ever compare to Bellatrix Lestrange. He knew very well that she was biting her lip to hold back her screams that would wake the castle. “Scream.” He yelled at her. “Draw attention, get the professors out here.” She stared at him with the same lifeless eyes he’d seen all these months ago in his own drawing room. “It doesn’t make you any weaker.”

 

The blood curdling scream that wrenched itself free shook the night. The knowledge that it was coming didn’t make the scene in front of him any easier. No, it made his blood boil, made the killing curse come to the tip of his tongue and he knew right then the night would end in bloodshed. With her attacker dead, or him dead, whichever came first.

 

She writhed on the table, her body convulsing violently. “Goddammit.” She spoke through gritted teeth. “Malfoy, wait.”

 

“I’m not going to wait here for someone to curse you again.” He roared. He’d already had his wand in hand when she’d been reaching for her own. Not that it had helped her then.

 

“I’m not saying that.” She fumbled, bringing her knee as close to her chest as she could. Granger plucked her wand from the slip inside of her knee high boots and extended it to him. “Take this. Yours has a trace.” He put his wand in her hand, curling her fingers around it. “I couldn’t fight anyways. Not your typical crucio.” He took a moment to take her in. She was right of course. Her jumper was torn, and blood spilled against the fabric. Her hair was sticking to her forehead. Even now, she was thinking ahead. It was more than he could say for himself.

 

He only had one thing in mind.

 

“Take her to the castle.” Draco spoke directly to Theo. “Straight to the infirmary. Pansy, go straight to McGonagall. She needs to alert the aurors.” Hermione’s body shook as Theo scooped her into his arms. “Potter.” He demanded, to receive a nod.

 

Potter followed him to towards the forest from where the curse had originated. “Be careful.” Hermione shuddered. Draco took special care to avoid stepping on the fresh leaves. Granger’s wand poised in his hand, he stepped past the trees first.

 

The sight they happened upon was not one he expected. Potter between him and the young boy that was on his knees, his wand tossed to the side. “Why did you attack Hermione?” Harry demanded, circling around his back.

 

Silence.

 

“Answer him.” Draco knelt down in front of him. It took one look at his face to know, and somehow he was still thrown for a loop. “ _Finite Incantatem._ ” A startled look crossed the younger boy’s face, and then fear replaced it. The way Draco’s lips curved was cruel, unforgiving. “Who put you under the Imperius Curse with orders to attack Hermione Granger?”

  


It all happened quickly with the boy who he’d learned was Harper, a fifth year who harbored a grudge against Hermione Granger. That much he knew, and it had to be why he was targeted originally. Harper had a reason to kill Granger, and who better to be blamed for her attack then a known rival?

 

* * *

 

Draco hauled him into Headmistress McGonagall’s office by his collar, taking no time to set him down gently. The aurors in the room grimaced as Harper’s half limp body tumbled to the floor, but did not breathe a word against Malfoy. Potter had already rushed for the infirmary, leaving Draco and all of his rage behind.

 

“I’m going to ask you another time.” Draco kneeled in front of the boy, whose breathing was becoming more and more difficult. “Do you have any idea who used the Imperius Curse on you?”

 

“I want to talk to her.”

 

Draco’s fist connected with his jaw, with a sickening crunch and the male auror two feet from him nearly moved. Let him, Draco thought. “You don’t get to make demands to me.” He hissed. “Do you have any idea? No bullshit, or I’ll break every bone in your body twice.”

 

His eyes flew open in horror. “Mr. Malfoy, he’s suffering the after effects of the curse. His memory could be hazy at best, or he may not remember at all.” McGonagall spoke clearly.

 

“Was it Gregory Goyle?” Malfoy drilled. Harper said nothing. “Do you know?” He repeated softer this time.

 

“I can’t remember very much, but I remember that I did not want to harm Miss Granger.” He murmured. “I would like very much to apologize to her, not to threaten her.”

 

“And I, for one, would like _very_ _much_ would like for her to survive the night.” Harper wouldn’t meet his eyes, and he traced the intricate swirls in the carpet with his finger. “She might die, you understand that?” His voice was low and gravelly. She could be saying her goodbyes, because she bloody would say them just in case the worst happen and he was here dealing with this wastrel.

 

“I’m so sorry.”

 

“You’re not sorry, but if Granger dies on me, I swear you will be.” He hisses, standing to his feet and taking one last look at the room before letting the door slam shut behind him.

 

He sprinted to the infirmary. It had been maybe twenty minutes since she’d passed him her vine wand to ensure if it came to the worst, he wasn’t going to Azkaban. It hadn’t been long, but fuck, she’d looked like she’d been close to death by the lake already.

 

His entrance was loud as the door banged into the wall from how hard he’d shoved it. Theo planted himself in his path, grappling him by his shoulders. “Draco, you don’t want to look right now.”

 

His pale, washed out face told him everything. “Theo, is s-she,”

 

“No, but she could go either way.” He tells him lowly and Draco takes note of Pansy’s fingers encircling Hermione’s ankles, effectively keeping them pinned. Granger is whimpering, and her hands are pushing on her stomach, trying hopelessly to apply pressure to the open wound.

 

“I’m going to murder whoever did this to her, slowly.” He growled. Theo didn’t ask who was in the forest, or why he hadn’t already finished it. “She has to be alright, Theo.”

 

“She’s a fighter, you know that.” He replied, but he didn’t sound so convinced. “She has to be alright.” Draco nods, watching as Pomfrey uses the same spell Snape used on him in sixth year after Potter’s nasty curse.

 

“She can’t go, not yet.” He whispered and he left the room, setting off towards the Slytherin dungeons, giving into the urge to break someone.

 

He returned to the dorms after being denied entrance by the portrait and being hauled into McGonagall’s office, on the receiving end of a strict lecture.

* * *

 

To say Granger was livid would be a massive understatement when he explained she was not attacked by the person who’d ordered it. “It was Goyle.” She told him in the silence of the common room. Theo had taken a seat on the couch behind where she stood. She was wrapped in a cloak, her jewel green jumper beneath it stained with blood. She reiterated that she was perfectly fine, and that the wounds had close with the skillful help of Madame Pomfrey.

 

The torture curse had been modified into something he’d never seen before. Some sort of hybrid between the Cruciatus and Sectumsempra. It was the sort of Dark Magic Goyle couldn’t have concocted himself, and that was chilling.

 

“Harper isn’t talking right now.” He heard himself say, wishing she’d leave it, but who was he to lie to her?

 

“Harper?” She screamed, knocking a vase from the bedside table. His eyes widened.

 

“Harper.” He confirmed. “He says he won’t talk to anyone but you.”

 

“Then let’s go. Now.” She demanded.

 

“You’re in no shape to go running off in the middle of the night.” He told her. “You’re covered in blood, and for fucks sake, you can barely walk, Granger.” She glared at him. “If you try to leave this room, I will tie you to your bed myself. You can go in the morning.”

 

“Is he alright?” Her voice trembled. “Was he injured in any way?”

 

“He’s completely fine. He’s with McGonagall. No one is going to hurt him before you can talk to him, I promise.”

 

Her next words sent a chill down his spine. “No one is going to hurt him at all.” She bit out. “If I’m being held prisoner, I’d prefer to be alone. Everyone,” She turned around. “Get out.” She handed the cloak off her back to Theo. She was covered in blood stains, from her pants to her shirt, and droplets on her boots.

 

From where he stood, he could make out dried blood around her finger nails, as if she’d attempted to hold a wound shut until it could be healed. Theo kissed the top of her head, giving Draco a pointed look. “Make sure you watch her. She will sneak out.” Theo murmured. “Try to talk to her.”

 

“She won’t leave.” He replied, ignoring his advice. “I should thank you for getting her into the castle so quickly.”

 

“I wouldn’t let anything happen to her if I could help it.” Draco nodded. “You think it was Goyle?”

 

“I don’t know yet, but I will find out.” Theo was the last one to leave, the portrait locking securely behind him. “Granger,” She stomped towards him without letting him continue and awkwardly slipped her arms around his waist. He rested his chin on top of her head, rubbing slow circles over her back. “I’m sorry.”

 

“For what?” Her voice was muffled against his chest. “I’m just relieved you came back. All I could think was that I should be fighting with you. All I could think was that your father was waiting in the Forbidden Forest.”

 

“I thought so too.” Her nails scraped against the fabric covering his back, clutching him tightly. “Quick thinking,” He sounded amused as he looked down on her. Her hair was fucked six ways from Sunday, and that was just her hair. Granger looked as if she’d used a time turner and stepped back into the Battle of Hogwarts. The grim reminder made him tighten his arms around her, pretending not to notice her sigh of contentment. “When you gave me your wand.”

 

She nodded. “It would have alerted the Ministry had you used an unforgivable curse with your own.”

 

“Who says I would have?”

 

“You’re forgetting I know you.” She spoke softly, treading the subject lightly. “I may not know your favorite color, or your entire autobiography like Pansy claims.” He chuckled at that. “But I do know how you fight, and I know you’re protective. Harry is the disarming type. You’re unrelenting.”

 

“So I’m the murdering type?”

 

“No, you’re the ‘use any means to achieve their ends type.’” She grinned. “Turns out that damn hat knew who we were before we did.”

 

“How did you know your wand wouldn’t resist me?” Hermione had untangled herself from him, stepping backwards. She picked at her nails, biting down on her lip as she attempted to answer.

 

“I think we make a rather good team, and I assumed the same would go for my wand.” She arched an eyebrow. “Was I wrong?”

 

“Have you ever been?” He countered. “You look like you’ve been drug through hell and back. Come on.” She followed him out of curiosity, hesitating at the door when he stepped into the bathroom.

 

“Are you drawing a bath for me?” She asked, her nose crinkling. He nodded sharply, waving her wand to warm the water. He set it on the porcelain counter. “Oh.” She mumbled, fishing his wand out from her boot. “Thank you for this.” He wouldn’t meet her eyes. The words sounded wrong in her mouth. He didn’t find himself deserving any kind of thanks.

 

“Aside from the obvious, how was your birthday?” He asked anyways, hesitant to leave her for the smallest amount of times. Granger was a capable witch; if he didn’t keep an eye on her she would find a way into the Slytherin dungeons at the four in the morning to smother Goyle in his sleep. She was not soft, nor was she even shook up about the night's’ events.

 

She took her time answering before looking directly at him. “It was interesting. A bit confusing if I can be honest.”

 

The moment could have gone either way, but he didn’t move towards her. “Let me know if you need anything.” She nodded without her disappointment showing on her face. He barely caught the grimace that twisted her lips when she tugged at the hem of her shirt.

 

“Could you bring Pansy to our room?” She whispered. “I can’t, I can’t.” She struggled with her words, and he could see her breaking.

 

“Does it hurt too much?” She nodded swiftly. “I can help you. It’s fine, Granger.” He reassured her, knowing it must kill her inside to admit she needed help. “Just keep your knickers on.” Her smirked at the delicious blush spreading across her face.

 

“It’s nothing. You’re just helping me out.”

 

“It’s nothing.” He lied. As if seeing her stripped down to her underwear would help him at all. He’d tried to keep her at a distance, but he was tired of the constant effort of denying what he wanted.  “Can’t have you walking around like that.” She rolled his eyes at his poor insult. “Can you put your arms over your head?”

 

She struggled, whimpering as she complied. He murmured that he would make it fast, his chest brushing against hers as he pulled her jumper over her head. He cursed under his breath, taking in the wounds she’d suffered from. Pomfrey had done a magnificent job, but she would need dittany to combat the scars.

 

But among the fresh wounds, there was a much older scar on her chest. “It was Dolohov in Godric’s Hollow. He cursed me first. Harry, actually, but I moved in front of him.”

 

“Don’t you have a sense of self preservation?” He growled at her.

 

She shrugged out of habit. “He needed to kill Voldemort.” She gasped a tiny, “Oh!” when his fingers brushed against her lower stomach as he helped push the fabric down her legs after slipping her boots off. She responded to his touch in all the ways she didn’t realize. “I was just trying to keep us all alive.”

 

He adjusted her to where the small of her back was pressed against the counter, so she could keep her balance. He unbuttoned his sleeves, rolling them up to his elbows. “There’s dittany in my room you can use.” She nodded, crossing her arms across her chest. She noticed the faded dark mark that marred his forearm, and said nothing. She’d never spoken about it herself, and it was a small mercy.

 

He realized she was attempting to cover herself, but all she did was push her breasts up. Draco swallowed. She looked better under the full light instead of covered by the water. He could have kicked himself in the past for not realizing what she’d possessed beneath her robes. Her knickers were simple cotton, but thanks to her, her breasts were practically about to spill out from her red bra.

 

He said nothing as he slipped one arm around her back and one under the back of her knees to move her into the bathtub. Water splashed over the sides as he lowered her until she was sitting.

 

“Is the water too hot?”

 

Hermione shook her head, letting her head loll to the side as she relaxed. “Feels fantastic.” She murmured. “You don’t have to do this for me, Draco. I can manage, really.”

 

“Shut up. I wouldn’t do anything I didn’t want to.” She nodded, and watched as he reached across the tub. Draco started with her shoulders first, scrubbing with gentle movements as not to hurt her anymore. She reached around with her right hand and pushed her hair to the side to give him access to her right shoulder once he finished.

 

Her body gave a little jerk as he eased the strap of her bra down. His smirk was firmly planted on his face as he ran the cloth over her bare skin, washing away blood that had dried some hours earlier. “Why didn’t you shower sooner? Being covered in blood can’t be comfortable.”

 

“I refused to move until you returned. McGonagall called the Ministry, and the auror in charge decided I was safest in our dorm.”

 

He scoffed. “They should have kept you in the infirmary with an attack like this.” He pulled the tiny strap back into place. “Put your feet on the ledge and lift your legs.” She slipped lower into the water while she did as he instructed.

 

He’d foolishly assumed the bubbles in the bath would cover her, and take away the tension he felt. Keeping her knickers on did nothing but leave nothing to his imagination. She could have stripped naked for all the difference it made. The cups of her bra clung to her breasts, her nipples had hardened through the thin material.

 

She caught him staring as he ran his hands over her legs, but she didn’t cover her arms across her chest. No, Hermione propped herself up and leaned her head back against the edge of the tub, closing her eyes. There was trail from where blood had trickled down from her stomach and dried on the inner skin of her thigh.

 

He should have told her, let her wash the inside of her legs on her own. Instead he used his thumb to wipe the stain away. She didn’t disappoint as a tiny moan slipped from between her lips and her body shuddered. His cock was already impossibly hard in his trousers, and all he could think was he needed to hear that sound again.

 

That he was near saying to hell with being careful with her, and tossing her onto his bed. Fantasies of the different ways he could fuck her senseless until she was a screaming mess went through his mind.

 

“Enjoy that much?” He asked in a husky voice, moving his hand away from her legs. She bit her lip hard, her eyes settled on his hand before coming back to his face.

 

“What happens if I say yes?”

 

Fuck him, he almost yanked her out of the water right then. “You’re still drunk.” He stated. She giggled. “Not to mention how injured you are.” Fuck, he could have had her then, and she would have let him.

 

“You’re saying that so you can sabotage yourself, but have it your way. I’ll bring it up when I’m not injured, and when I’m sober.” She winked at him.

 

“If you remember.”

 

“I wouldn’t be able to forget. Would you do me a favor and wash my hair? I can’t reach my arms above my head. Besides, you wouldn’t be able to shag me properly right now anyways. You’d be too gentle.” He groaned, and glared at her.

 

He didn’t say a word as he washed her stomach quickly, trying to escape as soon as possible. Feeling her bare skin beneath his fingertips, everywhere but where he desperately craved to, was an assault on his mind.

 

Draco grabbed the shampoo from the wall, successfully fumbling and knocking everything else onto the tile floor. Hermione sat up straight, crossing her legs beneath the water as he poured the shampoo into his hands. Breathy sighs fell from her mouth as he washed her hair, his fingers kneading against her scalp.

 

Hermione dunked her hair beneath the water to rinse out the soap while he snatched a towel. Despite having tried, she couldn’t stand on her own. “It’s fine.” She grumbled. “You’ve done enough for me tonight.” She smacked his hands away. “I’ll manage.”

 

“Stop being so goddamn stubborn.” He growled, bending down and picking her straight out of the tub. She hadn’t gained back the weight she’d lost during her time on the run, and she was too light in his arms. She grabbed the towel he’d draped over his shoulder and attempted to get away from him. “Do you always do the exact opposite of what you’re told?”

 

“Put me down please.” With a glare in her direction, he set her on her feet, wrapping the towel around her. “I appreciate what you did tonight.” He didn’t say a word as he stalked into his own bedroom and dug through the mahogany dresser.

 

“Here.” He told her and threw a quidditch jersey at her. She raised one eyebrow as she looked at the garment dangling from her fingers. “You’re sleeping in my room, by the way.”

 

“Says who?” She replies.

 

“Me. I don’t trust you to stay away from Goyle.” Draco leans against the back of the couch, legs crossed at his ankles. “Also it would be nice to know you’re safe in there.”

 

“Harper was under the Imperius Curse, Malfoy. Whoever put him under it is hardly going to waltz into our dorm this late. It would be foolish.”

 

“And it was foolish to attack you on Hogwarts grounds, but that still happened. The sooner you accept that you’re not leaving my sight, the sooner you sleep.”

 

She rubbed her temples, the towel slipping from her chest. “Fine.” She exhaled the word. “That’s logical, I suppose.” Then a wicked smile settled on her mouth. “What isn’t logical is giving me _your_ quidditch shirt when I have Harry’s in my room.”

 

His eyes narrowed into a sharp glare when called him out. “Just wear the damn shirt, Granger. What does it matter?”

 

“If it doesn’t matter I’ll just grab the one in my room.”

 

“Will you just humor me this time? Put my shirt on.”

 

“I can’t.” No hiding the disappointment that crossed his face. “I mean I can’t lift my arms, idiot. That didn’t change from when I was in the bath to now.” She took two strides and came to stand directly in front of her. He was eye level with her towel clad chest from his sitting position. “Just help me get it over my head and I can do the rest.”

 

It wasn’t an accident when he caused the towel to come undone and pool around her feet. She swallowed above him, not covering herself, only putting her hands on her hips. “I swear if you don’t stop staring at me,”

 

“You swear what?” He smirked as he stood. Granger was certainly an average height for her age, but he towered over her. “Careful.” He told her, and helped slip the shirt over her head. “Slytherin looks better on you than Gryffindor. She blushed. “Go to sleep. My password is the same.” It was true. It came to end above her knees, and she looked so inviting standing there with her wet hair, and the shirt clinging to her.

 

“You’re not going to sleep?” She asked.

 

He shook his head. “I’m going to keep watch, just in case.” She nodded. “Scream if you need anything.”

 

“Thank you for what you did tonight. I appreciate what you’ve done. You didn’t have to help me and,”

 

“Granger,” He cut her off, hooking a finger under her chin and bringing her face up to his. “We’ve established that I will always help you. I don’t have to, but I want to. Go to sleep. There is dittany on my dresser.”

 

Her lips had parted, and her fingers twitched towards his own. Her breathing was uneven and he watched the way her pupils expanded. “It goes both ways.” She finally said. “I’ll always be here to help you.” She’d said something very similar in the ruins of the now repaired castle. Hermione leaned up and pressed her lips against his cheek. “Goodnight. Wake me up if you need to sleep. An auror can babysit me.”

 

She disappeared through his bedroom door and he mulled over what he hadn’t told her. He’d never trust anyone else to keep her safe. He couldn’t, because they just didn’t feel the same way he did.

 

* * *

 

For a blissful four hours, she’d slept in the bed, tangled among the sheets dreaming of Malfoy instead of reliving the atrocities she’d lived through already. Come to find out, she was affected by wet dreams more than psychological night terrors.

 

She pulled the sheet and blanket off of her body, stumbling to her feet to look at her reflection in the mirror on the dresser. She looked like hell. Her hair was tangled from not tying it up after the bath. Goosebumps popped up across her skin at just the memory. Had he hoped she’d forgotten? She could remember vividly how a wanton moan had betrayed her, and how his eyes hardened.

 

As if she could forget.

 

Besides her hair, and the haunting in her own eyes, she looked like she’d just spent her night doing something very different. Malfoy’s shirt was too long on her, but she liked the rival colors on her.

 

She opened the door as quietly as she could, remembering it wasn’t very long ago that she’d done this exact same thing. When Draco had carried her to sleep in his room instead, she’d snuck out as quietly as possible. But this time was different. He was awake, spinning his wand in between his fingers.

of him. Nevermind how her legs were bare underneath her shirt, or that she’d mistakenly left her bra in his room. “Did you sleep at all?”

 

“Granger.”

 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” She deadpanned, marching up to him and standing right in front

“I blinked a few times.” He replied. “Did you sleep well?”

 

“Did I-you are horrible!” She muttered. “You could have slept. I wouldn’t have snuck out.”

 

“That’s incredibly hard to believe. You want me to believe you wouldn’t have broken into the dungeons and made Goyle beg for mercy?”

 

Her eyes flashed something violent and she bent down to stare at him. “Don’t make assumptions here, Malfoy. You’re right. I wanted to storm down there and drown him in a toilet.” He muffled a laugh. “I can’t though. McGonagall chose me as Head Girl for a reason and it would be a betrayal to attack another student.”

 

Draco tugged her by her hand and pulled her onto the couch in the post next to him. She tucked her legs beneath her, smoothing the shirt out over her upper thighs. “Harper can’t remember. The magic is delicate is what the Head Auror said.”

 

She shrugs. “That’s okay; I don’t want to endanger him.” She replies. “We can figure this out without him.”

 

“He still wants to talk to you, Granger.” She froze, and stared at him, her jaw slacking. “He says it’s to apologize, but honestly you can’t trust him.”

 

“It’s the other way around. That boy cannot trust me, and if anyone should apologize, it’s most definitely me.”

 

“I’m not going to tell you how it’s not your fault, because it is.” He starts, running his fingers through his hair. “I am going to tell you that it was war, and while I feel for his loss, I’d much rather have you sitting in front of me right now-”

 

She cut him off. “That doesn’t make it right. If he wants to speak with me, that’s completely fine. He can find me. Until then, I want to eat and then I want to find who did this.”

 

He nods. “Stay away from Goyle until you’re healed.” She huffed. “Are you not wearing a bra?” He asked her suddenly, his eyes dropping. She rolled her eyes.

 

“I’m going to get dressed.” She stood from the couch and had just grasped the doorknob to her room when he called out.

 

“Keep the shirt.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you could take a moment to review and tell me what you think, I’d be so thankful. This story is going to take a darker turn in a few chapters, detailing an ordeal Hermione suffered during the war in this fic. 
> 
> I don’t want to beg….but I’m going to. Please, please tell me what you think of the bathroom scene between Hermione and Draco. 
> 
> Until next week!


	15. Chapter Fifteen

An auror with the last name of Walters spoke to her that morning, and debriefed her quickly in the secrecy of McGonagall’s office. Draco brushed off the man’s orders to remain outside, and planted himself firmly beside the door, wand poised for an attack. His only words were to tell him Granger would t be going anywhere he couldn’t see her. 

 

She didn’t know what to make of his declaration. Hermione voiced all she knew, and the theories she’d started in her head. But as soon as he shot down the notion Gregory Goyle had been involved, she kept the final theory to herself. 

 

She was positive Goyle hadn’t orchestrated this on his own. He would never be able to take two horrible curses and splice them together effectively, much less to teach it to someone else. But he was involved, probably as a pawn. 

 

“Are you angry?” She asked Malfoy after they were alone. He’d allowed her to drag him outside for fresh air. 

 

“What kind of question is that? Of course I’m angry.” He grumbled. “It’s like nothing that happened in the war mattered if they’re still not taking you seriously.” 

 

“He looked at me differently. Did you notice that?” He shook his head. “He wouldn’t come near me, and he asked for my wand before he allowed me in. He was afraid of me.” She bit her lip. “As an auror, he knows everything I did in the war.” 

 

Malfoy swallowed. “He looked at me the same way. I’m sorry for what you had to do.” 

 

She nodded, placing her hands on the banister and leaning over to look over the grounds. “After the war, did you ever want to leave? Just go somewhere far away from all of this?” 

 

“All the time.” 

 

“I could change my name. No one would know who I was, or what I had done.” She continued. “I don’t know when or if I’ll ever feel okay. They say it’s day by day, but every second just rips me apart.” 

 

“I know.” He said softly. “You’re braver than I am.” 

 

“Bravery is a choice.” She tells him, feeling like right here is where it’s most peaceful. RIght here with him on a random balcony in Hogwarts with the wind blowing a little too hard. “It’s a choice I make every day, I think. It’s probably the only thing that gets me out of bed in the mornings, you know? To go down into the Great Hall and always look to the Slytherin table. There are kids that are sitting there who lost family members because of me.” 

 

He rested his hand on top of hers. “There are a lot of people who wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for you. Like my mother, or myself.” 

 

“Does that make it acceptable though? Is it acceptable to take it into my own hands and decide who I think should live?” The beginnings of tears stung her eyes.  

 

“I ask myself if I would do it again, and if the answer is yes, I can’t apologize for it. ” He tells her. “I wish I could do more for you, but I’m not comforting. I’m an asshole and I’d rather be breaking that kid’s mind open to find who attacked you.” 

 

She stayed silent, but took his words to heart. Would she have done everything differently if she could turn back time? 

 

No, she found she couldn’t.

* * *

  
  


Harper kept his head down, and she noticed how when she was striding down the hall, he would attempt to approach her. The moment Malfoy’s blond head came into view he would vanish. She didn’t know what he’d done to the kid the night of her birthday because she hadn’t taken the time to care. 

 

She’d never found herself as paranoid as she did now. Malfoy was usually close by, but he kept a subtle distance, never drawing attention to himself. She found herself nearly always in the company of one of her friends despite trying to tell them to give her some space. 

 

Three weeks crawled by and each day that passed made her anxious. The Head Boy felt it too; the suspense in waiting for the other shoe to drop. For Goyle to attack her, and confirm their suspicions. For something to shatter the small peace she’d found in her life. 

 

She’d never been particularly patient. If trouble didn’t find her soon, she’d go looking herself. Malfoy would be hot on her heels, of course. Despite the fact that she’d healed up nicely, she was never left alone. Whether it be her fellow roommate, Harry, or Theo and Blaise. They would have never tagged along while she sat for hours in a library, but circumstances had changed. 

 

Malfoy had changed. 

 

It wasn’t obvious in the first week following her birthday. Of course her friends would be protective of her. The second week passed in the same rotation. Theo accompanying her to the library after dinner, and then insisting to walk her back to the Head dor. Harry badgering her on Tuesday to spend some time in the Gryffindor common room, saying “It will be good for you.” 

 

Blaise and Pansy always found a way to usher her into her bedroom on Wednesday for what they insisted was quality time. It was a horrible lie, and Hermione let it slip that she knew the two would much rather spend ‘quality time’ by themselves. 

 

She was sure she’d sped up the process of their budding relationship. 

 

It was Thursday that took her off guard. By now she had already pieced together that Malfoy was behind this and had assembled all of their friends into a schedule for bodyguards. She was angry at first. She didn’t feel like a child anymore. Not after the war, not after suffering at the hands of Antonin Dolohov, not after breaking apart as many times as she had. 

 

Then Ron came to grab her and she knew it had to have been a large blow to the blond’s pride to leave her safety to Ron Weasley. It wasn’t a secret that they had always disliked one another. Lucius had raised Draco in the realm of pureblood superiority. The elder Malfoy had been unrelenting on Arthur Weasley in the younger years of Hogwarts, and she wondered absently if Draco was trying to heal old wounds. 

 

It was on a Thursday that everything went to shit. 

 

She’d been laughing with Ron, nearly a month after the attack. Laughing so loudly that they were irritating other students. She sat on the ledge of the walls of Hogwarts, her head thrown back in a brilliant laugh as Ron read aloud a letter from George. It was a great moment. Until an unfamiliar owl dropped a letter in her lap and she felt her blood run cold. 

 

The parcel burned her lap, the seal facing upwards into the sky. “What is it?” Ron asked her, swinging his legs and jumping to the solid ground. 

 

“Malfoy.” She growled, taking the letter into her hands carefully. 

 

“I thought you got on well with Narcissa? I never understood it myself.” 

 

“Narcissa no longer uses the Malfoy seal on her letters. She likes to distance herself from her husband.” It was actually a recent change, on that Narcissa had asked her opinion on. What about her though? Was she safe in that Manor? Had aurors reinforced the wards?

 

“Oh, why are you upset he’s sending you letter? Don’t you girls love that? Besides why is he sending the anyways? You two live together,” 

 

She cut him off, unable to listen to him ramble any longer. “It’s not from him, Ron.” She tore open the seal by edge. “It would be Lucius.” Ron stilled beside her. 

 

“We should go to McGonagall.” She could only shake her head. 

 

A sliver of paper was all that was inside, written in impeccable penmanship. 

 

_ The best way to obliterate an infection is to start with the source.  _

 

There were no other words, no curse that blasted out of the envelope that could have knocked her clean over the ledge of the stone walls. Something she should have accounted for at the beginning, but she’d been impulsive. “I need to go.” She told him. “Don’t come with me.” 

 

“Hermione,” 

 

“Ron, don’t you dare.” She hissed. “I’m going straight to Malfoy. Not a word to anyone.” He nodded, already defeated when she gave him that look. 

 

She sprinted into the castle, hurrying down the corridors to reach the quidditch pitch where Slytherin would be practicing. “Granger!” She slid to a stop, looking over her shoulder. Harper was standing beside a statue that she’d just passed, his hands shoved awkwardly in his pockets. 

 

“Harper, I’m terribly sorry but I don’t have time to spare.” She spoke as gently as she could. “I know you’ve been trying to catch me, but I have to leave.” 

 

“Please, it will only take a second.” She bit her lip. “I wanted to apologize.” 

 

“There’s no need to apologize to me. You weren’t in control of your actions.” She replied, her hand curling around the note. “I don’t blame you.” 

 

“Were you in control?” He asked her suddenly. 

 

“Granger!” Malfoy shouted behind her, but she couldn’t turn. 

 

“Is that a question you want the answers to? I won’t lie to you, Harper.” She ground out. Malfoy’s footsteps were loud as he came to her side. 

 

He nodded. “Were you in control when you killed my brother?” He asked her then. She grabbed Malfoy by the shoulder when he stepped forward. “I know that you must have had a reason. I didn’t think that when it happened though.” 

 

“I was in control.” She bit out while her eyes stung. “Harper, I was no one’s puppet when I took your brother’s life. I’m sorry it’s not what you would like to hear.” She passed the note to Draco, noting how his hands shook. 

 

“Are you sorry?” His next question wasn’t any easier to answer, but she thought of Draco’s words in the morning after her birthday. 

 

“I can’t apologize for that when I would do it all over again.” 

 

His eyes widened. “What happened?” 

 

“Harper.” Malfoy growled. 

 

“I want to know why my brother died.” Her heart was hammering in her chest. “I know that he must have hurt you, that he must have done something so horrible.” 

 

“I’ll tell you about it someday, if that’s what you want. But it won’t be today, Harper.” She finally said. “Malfoy, what is that?” She snatched a paper from his hand, one much larger than the slip she’d handed him moments ago. 

 

“An owl just delivered it to me.” He looked indecisive, as if he wanted to close the distance. To embrace her and tell her it would be okay. Except it wouldn’t be okay, because the elegant cursive note finally made sense. It wasn’t a riddle, not at all. 

 

It was a threat. 

 

The smiles of her parents stared back at her from the muggle photograph. They stood in front of a house she’d never seen before; it would have been one they’d have purchased if they didn’t have a child. An intimate one story house in Australia. She noted the scrawled date on the back, written by someone who was not Lucius Malfoy. 

 

The date was yesterday. 

 

“Hermione,” Harper began, only to have her put her hand up. 

 

“I will tell you when I get back.” Her blood felt as if it were boiling. Draco looked as if he were about to snap for the last time. “And if I don’t come back, Harper, go to Harry Potter. There is a pensieve in my bedroom. He has the password and you can view the memories.” 

 

“If you don’t come back?” He echoed. 

 

“If I don’t come back, then I’m already dead.” She spat before turning on the ball of her foot and tearing a path through the corridors. “I’m going to my parents.” Hermione bit out. 

 

He kept up with her frenzied strides, taking the opportunity to look down at her. “I’m going with you.” She didn’t argue. In fact, she wouldn’t want it any other way, but she would have never been able to bring herself to ask. 

 

“Good.” She breathed. “We have to tell McGonagall.” 

 

“She’ll never let you disappear from this castle, Granger. Not when it’s my father you’re chasing. She’ll call the Ministry and keep you under lock and key.” She shook her head. “Do you trust her to let you leave?” 

 

“Professor McGonagall never much cared for the policy and procedure of the Ministry.” She replied, tugging him by the sleeve of his quidditch uniform. “She’d let me go. The real worry is whether she allows you to leave.” The expression that flickered across his face said it all. As if any soul would be able to stop him. 

 

“My probation.” He started, rocking back on his heels. “Fuck my probation. These are your parents. This is my father, and I will never let you go alone.” 

 

She shook her head. “I’m not thinking clearly.” He groaned in response, taking her by her wrist and pushing her back against the wall. “Yes, because this helps.” She snaps. 

 

His lips curve into a smirk. “I don’t care about breaking the law.” 

 

“You bloody well should. They could opt to send you to Azkaban,” Her bottom lip trembled as she said it. If they locked him away in that prison, it would break her. “I can’t let that happen.” 

 

“It won’t happen.” He assured her. “I’m not going away again, Hermione.” 

 

“You conceited arse.” The toe of her shoes made sharp contact with his shin. “I’m not thinking about how it affects me! What about your mother? What would happen to her if you never came back?” 

 

“She would be a shell of who she’s become recently.” He answered honestly. “I’m willing to live with that.” 

 

“You’re mad.”

 

“The more time we argue, the less time they have. Don’t worry about me. If what you say is true, then I’m sure that old bat McGonagall will get me out of this.” She was silent, her eyes trailing down to his lips. It was hardly the time, but she couldn’t help but think of the worst case scenario. What if the Wizengamot truly threw him into a prison cell? Could she live with herself if she pulled him down right now and it only left her with unresolved emotions? 

 

Could she live with the regret if she didn’t? 

 

“What’s going through your mind?” Draco drawled, but she barely listened. Latching her trembling fingers onto his shirt, she pulled him into her. His lips were as soft as she remembered, and after a long moment her buried his hands into her hair and he wedged his knee in between her thighs. 

 

She gasped into his mouth, relishing in how good it felt for him to take control then. The corridor might be empty for the moment, but any student, or even worse, faculty member could walk by and see them. 

 

She realized it was no surprise how passionate their first kiss had been. She wasn’t sure who the flame, and who was the wind. Who erupted into flames first, and who made it spread. 

 

He gripped her by the back of her knee and pulled it up to rest on his hip. He let out a guttural groan, “Fuck.” Her fingers had slid into his hair, through the silky strands. He pulled away, his hair fucked and his lips bruised. “I’m not complaining, but what was that?” 

 

She smiled. “I worried you could could go away. I wanted to see what it was like a second time, I suppose.” 

 

“And?” 

 

“I’ll tell you when this is over.” He nodded to her, but she had a feeling that he knew her thoughts. She was learning quickly, that it was never really over. 

 

He followed her into the Headmistress’s office without a sound, watching as their former professor rose from the leather backed chair, clasping her hands in front of her middle. “What’s happened?” 

 

Hermione held out her hand for the photograph that was now bent in one corner after the tumultuous tumble out in the drafty hallways. She passed both halves of the message to McGonagall, watching as her eyes narrowed. “Your father sent this, I presume, Mr. Malfoy.” 

 

“That’s what we believe.” 

 

“We would like permission to leave Hogwarts.” Hermione’s voice did not fail her as she made the demand, as the elder witch’s eyebrows drew together. 

 

McGonagall sighed. “Leaving the country would alert the Ministry immediately of Draco Malfoy’s departure.” 

 

“I’m aware of the consequences.” He said. “The auror who was assigned to Granger didn’t believe a word she said about Goyle. He wouldn’t believe her now.” 

 

“With the evidence that we have now, they wouldn’t have a choice.” Hermione shook her head. “Since I already know the pair of you will leave regardless of my blessing, I’m not going to agree, or disagree.” She pulled the top drawer of her desk open, removing a small coin. “Take this with you.” Her voice was no more than a whisper as she pressed it into Hermione’s palm. “It’s a portkey into Hogwarts. I will modify the wards to let you come through. If you are in any danger, I want you to think of the Great Hall.” 

 

“I understand.” 

 

“I fear you may not be able to control it, but if you can manage, please don’t mistakenly pull through Lucius Malfoy with you.” 

 

“There will be no need to bring him.” Draco’s words slipped out, a chill trickling down Hermione’s spine. 

 

“See to that. It’s my hypothetical suggestion that if you were to leave Hogwarts, that you use an invisibility cloak so no professor, aside from myself, can be accused of helping you. Go to apparition point beyond Hogsmeade before you use the portkey into Australia.” 

 

It had been months ago that Professor McGonagall presented her with another portkey, in a similar, somber fashion, that would lead her to the little town in Australia if the worst were to ever come to pass. 

 

“Yes, Headmistress.” 

* * *

  
  


It would be three hours before nightfall, another two before they could sneak out from under Filch’s nose. Draco had readily agreed to wait until after dinner, and after patrols to leave the castle. 

 

Guilt gnawed at her however, after she’d snuck into the boy’s dormitory and stolen Harry’s cloak. It had belonged to his father, and it was one a the few belongings he owned from his parents. What if she didn’t return? She imagined how angry he might be if the cloak Albus Dumbledore had given him vanished forever. 

 

It was a fact she had to acknowledge that his anger over the material object would be nothing compared to rage he would inevitably fly into tomorrow morning. He would know, and when she returned-she tried to bar the word ‘if’ from her vernacular-he would be livid she had gone alone. 

 

Not alone, just without Harry. She hoped McGonagall would manage to keep him inside the castle, so he wouldn’t come directly after her. 

 

“Are you going to dinner tonight?” Malfoy sat on the opposite end of the couch, his long legs stretched out. She’d long since settled her legs on top of his. Not to mention how she’d been stealing looks at him when she managed to pull her eyes away from his birthday gift to her. 

 

“I don’t know. I’m sure Ron has told Harry and Ginny. They’re worried, rightfully so since I’m leaving without telling them, and I worry I’ll crack, then tell them.” She flipped to the next page, and reached back to readjust her pillow against her back. “Are you?” 

 

“That,” He clicked his tongue. “Depends on you. How’s is it?” He motioned towards the large book that she held. 

 

“Perfect, of course.” She sighed. “Damn you.” He chuckled while her cheeks heated up. “This is my third read through.” 

 

“Of course it is. I’m glad you love it.” She smiled. As a habit, she always twisted the locket around her neck with his fingers, or she opened and closed it to keep busy. “Do you look inside the necklace often?” 

 

“Multiple times a day, to be honest with you. I love it, and how sometimes it’s the same scene, and sometimes it’s not. Kind of like an advanced mood ring.” 

 

“What is a mood ring?” His eyebrows knit together, as they always did when presented with muggle inventions. “Is that a muggle contraption?” 

 

She giggled. “It’s a ring that changes colors depending on your mood. I used to have a ton of them. There like novelty items.” 

 

“How does it know your emotions? That sounds like some kind of magic.” 

 

“I don’t believe it can really know your emotions. It’s based off body heat, and changes colors. They’re popular among the muggle girls. The locket your mother gave me, it always knows what I desire.” 

 

“Then what is it you desire right now?” His husky voice took her back to their snog in the hallway, and she bit down on her lip. 

 

She moved slowly, coming to sit on her knees on the end of the couch. “What about you?” She cocked her head to the side. “What do you desire?” 

 

She’d expected him to tell her how it was unacceptable to dodge his question with one her own, but he didn’t. In fact, he didn’t say anything at all. 

 

In muggle romance novels, authors always wrote how the male lead would growl as he grabbed the heroine by her waist, and she never understood why a woman would be turned on by a man growling. Or she hadn’t, until right this second when her name slipped between his lips as a growl as he placed both hands on her waist and yanked her into his lap. 

 

She was breathless straddling his waist, looking down at him and seeing how his eyes grew darker as he took her in. “Fuck,” She whispered. “What’s going though  _ your  _ mind?” Her voice was light, teasing in nature. 

 

He didn’t reward her with the filthy response she knew he was thinking. Sliding one hand into her hair, he pulled her down to meet his lips in a slow kiss. Hermione placed her hands flat against his chest, whimpering into the kiss as he traced her bottom lip with his tongue. 

 

He didn’t pass up the chance to run his hands up and down her body. The flimsy fabric of her top rode up above her waist and he rubbed small circles with his thumbs. “This okay?” He murmured to her as he inched her shirt up. 

 

“Yes.” She breathed. 

 

“Thank God,” Her skin was smooth beneath his fingers, save for a scar that ran from her stomach to the button of her jeans. He traced it lazily, feeling her freeze above him. 

 

“Please don’t pay attention to that.” 

 

“Every part of you is beautiful, Granger.” She pushed away from him, glaring at him as he continued to trace the awful scar. “I have scars as well.” 

 

Her features softened and she leaned down, her curls brushing against his chest. “It’s from Dolohov. There’s another nasty one on my chest from the first time I ran into him in the Department of Mysteries.” 

 

“I didn’t know he ever got ahold of you.” She hummed as she ducked her head down to kiss his neck, feeling him jerk in response. 

 

“I’m sure he wanted his actions to remain a secret. To be open and honest with you, it was the worst moment of the war. I didn’t care if I died when I was in that hellhole.” 

 

“Tell me what happened someday?” 

 

She nodded lazily. “Someday.” Came the agreement. “I could tell you now, but it would ruin the mood.” 

 

“That just won’t do.” Draco pulled on her hair, forcing her head back and kissed a trail of fire down her neck. He was quite sure there was nothing better than listening to the moans and whimpers slipping out of her mouth. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment with what you think! Until next week!


	16. Chapter Sixteen

“How much are you going to shove into that bag, Granger? You look like you’re packing for another war.” She’d never removed the undetectable extension charm from her bag, and she was currently rapidly shoving anything that they could need into it. 

 

“Maybe I am.” Came her muffled response as she slid open the drawer of her bedside table, removing a knife and sliding it into the opposite boot. “There is at least one other person who is with Lucius. My bet is on Dolohov, and he’s not going to leave this alive.” 

 

He said nothing to that. True to her convictions and her privacy, she had not told him of Dolohov’s actions. Granger failed to see her own nervous ticks, how her hands always shifted to cover herself in certain areas when his name slipped out into the conversation. His suspicions were likely correct. Crucio wasn’t the only form of torture Death Eaters used. 

 

Antonin Dolohov was a sick son a bitch, he already knew. He’d been forced to witness revels, in which the man never missed, and would toy with prisoners before they met their untimely end. Witnessing a young woman being raped was something Draco could never force out of his head. 

 

The scar on Hermione’s stomach was clean slice through the layers of tissues. She didn’t have to tell him how Dolohov had taken his time carving into her, or that he’d unclothed her in the assault. 

 

Despite what she thought of herself, she wasn’t a cruel individual. The issue was her heart was still too big, and she would sacrifice herself for the greater good, or possibly to save someone’s life. She’d long since stopped wearing her heart on her sleeve, choosing to cage it behind a rough exterior. 

 

She hated to be feared, but she hated to be seen as the weak link even more. 

 

“Why do you need a knife if you have a wand?” She stilled for a moment, and he watched another nervous tick reveal itself. Her fingers curled above the wood, her nails scratching at the boards. 

 

“If I’m right, I prefer to be prepared. Dolohov got me without a wand once, and I refuse to let it happen again.” She answered honestly. Her voice had become hard. “He has an affliction for knives, particularly the large hunting knives.” 

 

“I see.” She moved to the bed, sitting with her legs crossed. 

 

“I’ll tell you about Dolohov.” Hermione patted the comforter beside her, and waited patiently for him to take a seat. “During the war, Ron left Harry and I. He was jealous, and insecure. Ron was convinced that Harry and I were lovers, since he saw that in Salazar’s locket.” Draco snorted, and she smiled. “During those weeks that he was gone, we came up with a rather insane plan. 

 

“We used the polyjuice potion to transform into Crabbe and Goyle. Harry swore that we would find something to help us, but it didn’t go that way. To cut the boring story of how I had to go on patrol with Death Eaters, who by the way, applauded my abilities, we were found out. Because the real Gregory Goyle got loose, and everything was ruined. It was a messy fight. Harry has never, ever killed anyone, still hasn’t, and while I’m glad he doesn’t have to live with guilt, I was also positive we weren’t leaving alive if they weren’t dead. 

 

“Goyle wasn’t capable of much when it came to fighting me, which is not any sort of brag on my part. It still makes my stomach churn to think about it. His father though.” She took a breath. “This came directly after he complimented me as his son, saying he always knew I was meant to be more. It was a slap to his face when I reverted into the mudblood that’s been wiping the floor with him for years. 

 

“He disarmed me, and I just went after him with just my wits. I’d never hit someone, besides you obviously, and I took a vase that was on the shelf. I broke it over his head. Cuts above your eyes have a tendency to bleed more, so really it looked worse than it was. Harry and I ran into the bathroom, prying a window open and were going to slip through it. He’d hidden a broom beneath that window a few days prior. I’m sure it was the only time he managed to think ahead. Goyle Sr followed, and grabbed a handful of my hair before smashing my face into the mirror of the bathroom. 

 

“It’s highly unlikely I could ever survive a fight like that again, but Harry managed to get him off of me. I did the same thing he’d done to me before kicking his knee cap backwards. I was trying to get information, and there are ways of torture that aren’t strictly magical.” He tensed beside her, watching her fingers ghost to the scar on her stomach. “I beat the shit out of him to be clear. Filled the sink with water and kept shoving his head under it. His son was huddled in a corner, crying. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t humane; I treated him like a rabid animal when that’s how I should have been regarded. 

 

“I took my wand back, and Harry told me I could just knock him unconscious, and I told him that wasn’t enough. He would go to Voldemort. So I murdered him just to safe, and his son begged me for his life.” 

 

“You didn’t kill him.” 

 

“I didn’t. He was worried for his own life, not the cause he’d foolishly devoted himself to. I believed he’d keep it to himself, and he did. I have no idea what sort of lie he told to cover the truth.” 

 

“Where does Dolohov enter this story?” His knuckles were white as he gripped the bedspread, watching her bring her knees to her chest. 

 

“It’s simple, honestly. He just caught us randomly after we apparated. I hadn’t had time to wash Goyle’s blood off my hands; my face was still bleeding from a cut here.” She lightly touched a spot near her eyebrow where he now saw bared a white scar. “He knew I’d killed him. He told me in Godric’s Hollow that I would make a nice plaything, something dirty to come home to. He made a special point to detail how he would keep me in chains and when the war was over, he’d have me as a secret to keep from his wife.” 

 

She could have been discussing the weather with how calm she sounded. Her voice didn’t shake, despite the fact that this had to be the first time she’d ever told anyone. A fact that made him pause, as she was choosing to open herself up to him. He understood clearly why Potter was fiercely protective of the witch in front of him. A small part of it might have been the fact she was like a dear sister to him, but he could see the other reason now. 

 

Hermione Granger had not merely been broken during the last year. She had shattered, all of her jagged edges resembling who she’d once been before, but she couldn’t be the same, not really. He’d heard detailed accounts of her actions against the Death Eaters. He’d listened to the gruesome stories of the other individual who she’d tortured, a word he’d have never imagined he’d associate with her. 

 

A victory was a victory, and she was willing to live with the guilt if that’s what it took to win. She’d set out to win at all costs, damning her sense of right and wrong. The other Death Eater might have lived if she’d chosen the torture curse itself. 

 

Granger has a vast amount of knowledge, not only of the magical world, but of the muggle world she’d been born in. And he had to say, muggles in wars had the means to make you talk. 

 

“You don’t have to tell me, Granger. I know the kind of person he is, and I know you haven’t said this outloud.” 

 

“Harry knows. Dolohov bound him to a chair and wouldn’t let him get free. He forced my best friend to watch, so I never had to say it outloud. My excuse to Ron was bullshit. It was never about Bellatrix. He kept pushing and I felt cornered. Dolohov may not have raped me, but the scars he’s given me were enough. The words he used were enough.” Draco didn’t dare reach over to wipe the stray tear from her face .”That’s not all though. Harper’s brother,” She broke off in a hiccup. “He was with Dolohov, and he was going to rape me. In fact, I’d already been stripped down so he thought he might as well take me while his boss was out on a patrol.

 

“I waited until he was there, until he untied me to redo my binds. He wanted my tied up, but,” She couldn’t manage to get the words out. 

 

“I understand what you are saying, and you don’t have to detail anything to me.” 

 

“I rolled off the bed, and onto the floor. And I grabbed the rope and then I strangled him.” She finished. “Then when the war was over, Dolohov was gone. So, I’m sure he’s with Lucius because they’re the two people in the world that want to capture me, and that’s why I’m not about to let him walk away this time. I want revenge.” 

 

“Then I’ll make sure you have it.” 

  
  


She was silent as they left the castle. Guilt chewed at her. If the roles had been reversed and it were her friends leaving without telling her, she knew she would be furious. It would have been the right thing to give Harry a chance, maybe even Ron. But if she were to bring them into the fold, she’d be obligated to tell Ginny, who had been left behind the last time. 

 

Not to mention Theo, Blaise and Pansy. While Harry would come unglued in the morning, especially once word reached him to confirm her suspicions, if they were accurate. The Boy Who Lived had shared her horrors with her and he’d respected her decision to leave everyone else in the dark. Did she really need to tell everyone what had happened when Ron had vanished? It had been the longest week of her life when she was forced to look at Dolohov, not to mention Jakob who had stood by. 

 

It hadn’t struck her in the corridor with Harper of how she shouldn’t volunteer her memories of Jakob’s death. It wasn’t regret she felt when she thought of the broken look that would cross his face once he had seen the harsh reality. That his brother was not an ideal image of what an older brother should be. It was hardly her place to crush him like that. She entertained the idea of altering her own memories, but it still wasn’t right to lie. 

 

She’d lied to Ron’s face when she told him it was because of Bellatrix when he touched her. Lied when she neglected to tell him that she had shared something with Draco Malfoy, teenage Death Eater that he was, moments before he drummed up the courage to kiss her himself. She was certain she knew his and Harry’s reactions better than anyone else. 

 

Harry had never fired the killing curse, this much she knew, as it was one of the things that had kept her believing in humanity. He hadn’t killed Death Eaters in the war, and she was accepting of the fact that he stepped aside to let her handle the gruesome parts. He couldn’t compartmentalize like her. 

 

Except she knew beyond a shadow of any doubt that Antonin Dolohov was a different matter altogether. Harry didn’t hate anyone as much as he hated that man, not even Voldemort himself. He could whisper the unforgivable, could blast a hole through Dolohov’s chest, and she was sure Harry wouldn’t feel a lick of guilt. 

 

Ron would ultimately make it about himself. As much as she loved him, which she really did, she wasn’t the least bit surprised. He would complain that he had never been told, and he wouldn’t grasp the emotional trauma she’d suffered  _ before  _ he opened his mouth. Why hasn't she told him the truth? 

 

As if it would have mattered in the heated moment at the Burrow over the summer. She remembered quite clearly that his crass advice was she just had to get over it.

 

She’d gotten over it, she’d say, since Draco had touched her and she hadn’t had flashbacks as she’d feared. Physical contact had been hard with Ron, and she touched the notion it was possibly because as much as she loved her dear friend, he was pressuring her into intimacy. Harry started small, a reassuring, feather light touch on her arm to let her know he understood. Her former boyfriend though had shoved his fingers under her knickers. 

 

“You’re going to give yourself an aneurysm if you keep thinking.” Malfoy told her, pinching the top of her arm. “What’s wrong?” 

 

“I was just thinking.” She replied. They were nestled into one another beneath the cloak as they snuck down to Hogsmeade with a little luck and something called the Marauder's Map. 

 

“Galleon for your thoughts?” 

 

“Harry will be furious in the morning.” She sighed. “As I told you, he knows about Dolohov. I think he’s the only person Harry could murder.” 

 

“That says something.” Draco replied. “If you’re so worried about it, why didn’t you tell him the truth?” 

 

“He wants to save me, drag me out of my shell. As if I’m plain old Hermione again who is a mother hen, and tells them to study. But I’m not. Harry is like my brother, and I love him dearly. He hasn’t been able to protect all of his loved ones, and I know he wants to protect me. He can’t though. He can’t shield me from my own bloodlust.” 

 

“You don’t want him to see you when you kill Dolohov.” He stated then, listening to her sharp intake of breath. “There’s nothing wrong with that.” 

 

“It’s not that I’m ashamed.” She rushed. “I’m not. I don’t know anyone who could go through what I have and not want to watch the life leave him. But when it comes down to it, he’s going to look at the facts and ask why I went with you and not him.” 

 

“What will you tell him then? Like or not, Granger, it’s a conversation you’re going to have because you’re not dying on this excursion.” 

 

“I’ll tell him the last thing he wants to hear, which is the truth. And it’s that the first person I went to is the person I trusted to help me make this right. The person I trust to break several laws and go halfway around the world to save my parents from at least two mad men.” She was rather breathless at the end of her tirade, and took a peek above her to see his reaction. “And if he doesn’t like that it was you, he’ll have to learn to live with it.” 

 

His jaw was set, his eyes unreadable. “You’re putting all your faith in me. It could be misplaced. I’m not the best guy around, Granger. I became a Death Eater, a shitty one, I’ll give you that. Are you sure you don’t want to turn around and nab Saint Potter?” 

 

She dug her fingers into his side, pulling them to a stop along the path down to the village. “Don’t back down because you’re scared.” She uttered softly. “You’re not the best guy around, sure. You’re an arsehole to Ron, because you hate what he did to me, but you’re nice to the lower years because you’re trying to show you’re not all bad. I care about this mark on your arm as much as you care about the mudblood scar on my inner arm. I told you during the Battle of Hogwarts that I was always going to help you.

 

“And if I’m allowed to be honest with you, I firmly believe you were always going to help me too. Because underneath this rough exterior that you use to keep people out, you care a hell of a lot. Especially about me.” 

 

“That was quite a speech.” His hand came up to stroke her cheek. “Are you crying?” 

 

“Obviously not. There’s something in my eye.” The sniffle, not to mention the salty tear rolling down her face, gave her away. 

 

“I know you’re overwhelmed right now, but we’ll find your parents. Not this will help your blubbering,” She glared. “But you’re right, I do care about you. So much that it happens to terrify me.” His lips were cool as he pressed his lips against her forehead. 

 

They walked in silence to the apparition point beyond Hogsmeade, and Hermione dragged the cloak off of the pair of them. “Mischief managed.” She whispered, Draco watching the map vanish before his eyes. “You ready?” She asked then, pulling the portkey to Australia from her boot. 

 

Draco had transfigured to other portkey into a necklace that hung around his neck, settled beneath his shirt. “When you are.” He grasped the other end of dagger, that he now realized had more importance than just revenge. 

 

Minerva McGonagall knew Hermione well enough to set in place protections. If something were to ever come to pass as a threat to her parents, she had left a weapon in her hands if she had no choice. 

 

It left him wondering how the witch knew of Hermione’s struggles at all. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My update schedule is on Wednesday's but I've decided to just say that I will update by Wednesday because I'm not at all patient. Let me know what you think! If you read the notes, I said this takes a darker turn for a few chapter, this being the beginning of it, and probably next two chapters being the end of it for a bit. My question to you as readers is what would you like to see with Lucius/Dolohov?
> 
> Side note- I made a smut story on the side for when I'm bored or stuck on this one, and I'm not sure if I'm happy or sad it surpassed this one. Lol.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

Harry Potter insisted he didn’t have a temper. Not in the slightest. He’d stood in front of the man who had taken his parents from him, and he’d cast  _ Expelliarmus _ , a small fact he would never hear the end of. He’d lost his Godfather, Sirius Black, and while he’d been enraged, he still hadn’t quite been able to imagine casting aside his morals, and commiting murder. 

 

Today was different. Today he woke up to find several aurors inside the castle, and also several inside the infirmary after they attempted to enter the Heads’ Dorm. 

 

He’d woken to the word that his best friend had vanished alongside what had once been their enemy. Harry didn’t understand their dysfunctional relationship yet although Ginny lorded over his head that it would make sense in due time. 

 

So far, with the help of Theo Nott, who had come straight to him in the early hours of the sunrise, he’d learned the bare facts. Hermione must have left Hogwarts at approximately 11:34 the night before since that what the exact time the Auror Office was alerted of Malfoy’s departure. She’d also made off with his cloak, which was the least of his worries. 

 

McGonagall had pulled the two of them into her office, sitting them down with a grave look upon her face. “As I think you are aware, Ms. Granger received a threat involving her parents yesterday.” 

 

“Ron told us.” Harry spoke. 

 

“Malfoy didn’t tell us shit, that prick.” Theo cursed. “He already knew they were leaving from the second he left our practice yesterday.” 

 

“Ron did tell us how she said she was going straight to him.” 

 

“I’m also aware of their involvement, as they came to me directly after they pieced together the threat.” McGonagall clasped her hands in her lap, leaning back in the chair, her legs crossed beneath the desk. “She asked for permission to leave Hogwarts.” 

 

“Of course you already knew.” Harry mumbled. “Then she’s in Australia. I’m going after her.” 

 

“Mr. Potter, please let me say my piece.” He settled into silence, feeling the distinct possibility that she might silence him for good measure. “I know the two of you are very close, and I think it’s best you hear this from me, rather then The Daily Prophet. Your friendship is likely the reason she didn’t come to you.” 

 

“That’s ridiculous. I’ve been there for her more than anyone-” 

 

“You’d kill Antonin Dolohov for her, wouldn’t you? For what he did to her?” Harry’s mouth snapped shut. “She didn’t tell me her suspicions, but the handwriting was not of the same individual. The Ministry told me this morning that both Lucius Malfoy and Antonin Dolohov were spotted in Australia.” 

 

He mouth was a flat line, his fingers digging into the upholstery of the leather chair. “If you already know about Dolohov, then you know what he will do to her even if it were only a suspicion.”

 

“Can someone please tell me what the fuck is going on?” Theo yelled, shooting out of his chair and knocking it backwards. “She’s one of my closest friends, and I want to know what she went and got herself into!”

 

“Dolohov captured us during the war, confined me to a chair with chains and magic. Then he strapped her down to a bed, and tortured her.” Harry said dryly, not even flinching when Theo hurled the vase from the desk through the window behind their professor. “No one else knows besides me or her doctor at St Mungo’s. I’d imagine that Malfoy also knows, which I’m sure is a recent development.” 

 

“He raped her.” Theo stated. 

 

Harry shook his head. “Didn’t get that far. He was sadistic, took more pleasure out of carving into her and forcing her to stay alive. The other Death Eater that was with him, Jakob, tried though. He made a mistake, and untied her binds only to have to her get loose before he strapped her back down. She wrapped the rope around his throat and strangled him.” He let his face fall into his hands. “She’s doesn’t speak of it.” 

 

“We’re leaving, Potter.” 

 

“Mr. Nott, you won’t make it out of this castle.” She reminded gently. 

 

“Well, maybe if you hadn’t let my friends march off to their deaths, I wouldn’t be taking this into my own hands. I’ll do what I have to do.” Theo seized Harry by the back of his robes, hauling him into the hallway. “Just so you know, she doesn’t have to know you’ve told me. I have no interest in bringing it up to her.” He folded his arms across his chest. “We’re going to go find Goyle and he’s going to tell us anything he knows.” 

 

It was the first thing that had made sense to Harry that morning. 

 

* * *

 

Both of their vehicles sat in the driveway. They had picked a blissfully quiet neighborhood, and a small home that resembled every other house on the street. From what she remembered, it didn’t fit them at all, but the days of their brick two story in muggle London were gone. They had arrived in the middle of that day, and watched the home from across the street, watching her parents come home from across the road. Waiting for something to happen. 

 

“There,” Malfoy whispered, drawing her attention to the curtains in the front window. “It was my father.” 

 

“You’re sure?” 

 

“I saw his hair. It’s him.” She sucked in a breath. “Side along apparate with me?” Hermione looked at him,  _ really  _ looked at him as if this were the last time she’d ever see him. Committed his features to memory, the curve of his jaw, the harshness of his eyes. 

 

“I want you to get my parents out.” She blurted. His eyes widened, and she continued before he could launch himself into a long speech of how she was the first person he wanted to protect. “I know it’s not what you want, but the two of us can’t leave with them. If we apparate to Hogwarts, Lucius could vanish and we might not find him again.” She didn’t voice the other name, not that she had any proof regardless. 

 

“Then it should be you that leaves with them, Granger.” He said in a pointed voice, his eyes turning hard. “If you think I’m willing to leave you with a psychopath,” 

 

“Your father won’t kill me, not yet.” She shook her head. “He told you, Draco, when he attacked us at Hogwarts in the final battle. He wants you to watch, to suffer before he ends my life.” 

 

“You’re trusting that,” 

 

“I’m trusting you to take my parents,” 

 

“Granger, we do this together, or not at all. If you’re right, like you always have been, Dolohov is waiting for you just the same. I’m not going to leave you with him. I don’t care if you survived him once.” She sighed. “I understand that you just want to burst in there like the reckless girl that you  _ are _ , and save your parents. I want that too. But my priority is you, has been for some time now, and I refuse to let this,” He stepped forward, running a finger over the scar he knew was under her shirt. “Ever happen to you again.” 

 

“Dolohov didn’t cut me open.” Hermione’s voice did not break, but it trembled. “He gave Harry a choice. Watch me be viciously raped, and murdered, or he could torture me himself. If you walk in that door with me, it won’t be Harry this time.” 

 

His eyebrows had knit together, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “I’m not Potter. There’s nothing stopping me from using the killing curse the second he’s in front of me.” He hissed. “I don’t care if they throw me in Azkaban to rot, not if it’s for protecting you.” 

 

“Such a sweet moment,” Draco’s hand shot to his wand, but there wasn’t enough time before a stunning spell hit him square in the chest. “You should have let him fight for you.” Lucius Malfoy stood there, emerging from a disillusionment charm that she should have noticed, appearing against a nearly moonless night. “Did you tell him you loved him before you came to die?” He mocked, voice unrelenting. 

 

“Fuck you.” She spat. Lucius hadn’t moved one finger since attacking his own son, who now lay on the ground, gasping for breath. She caught the horror that crossed his face as he looked behind her. 

 

She didn’t have to look. The familiar pain of a hunting knife cutting into her side told her everything. 

* * *

  
  


Draco stirred first. 

 

It must have been the main bedroom, or perhaps the only bedroom, considering this was a home built for a couple without a child. He’d expected to be tied down. Only one thing was going through his mind: Hermione. It came back in pieces, being dragged inside of the house, having the shit kicked out of him by his father. 

 

The taste of blood was still prevalent in his mouth. Dolohov had restrained Hermione with her back against his front. He’d seen her parents in flashes, heard her mother screaming for Lucius to let him go. Shrieking that he was his son, and he was a monster. 

 

It was clear from where Hermione had received her tenacity and stubbornness. 

 

Dolohov and the elder Malfoy were smart to have knocked him out when they turned their efforts to the girl he’d come with. 

 

He slid off of the bed, taking extra measures to move as silently as he could through the room. Outside the one window in the room, it was still night. There was no way of telling if it had only been a few hours since his father appeared from the shadows, or if a full day had already gone by. 

 

As much as he would have liked to forget the last thing that idiot girl asked him to do. Get her parents, get them to Hogwarts. Goddammit, he was going to throttle her the next time he saw her. He’d never been particularly hopeful, especially when dealing with psychopaths. But his father wouldn’t kill her yet. He had time; it’s what she would want. 

 

Cursing the day he met her and every day after he withdrew his wand, silently realizing there must be a darker reason for having been allowed to keep it. He gritted his teeth, whispering the charm. “Expecto Patronum.” He watched the wisps take form, and sent a message to McGonagall. He’d kept the damn thing a secret. His mother knew, the annoying, prying old bint. 

 

Hermione had mentioned the time zones to him vaguely, something he’d hardly taken note of, as of the fact the only thing on his mind was murder. It slapped him in the face now, a glaring fact that Britain was ten- was it eleven?- hour behind Australia, and their headmistress would be in the great hall, surrounded by the entire school. 

 

A cat darted towards him, appearing out of nothing.  _ “Mr, Malfoy, take care to be as quick as possible, as there are aurors here.  _

 

He hadn’t mentioned that Hermione wasn’t coming back with him, not the first time. The bedroom door opened slowly, with a small creak, and that was when he heard it. 

 

Someone was weeping, but it wasn’t her. He took three steps, leaning slowly towards the end of the hallway where he could get a look into the living room. Granger was there, her ankles tied to the legs of a chair, her hands bound by rope, and magic behind her back. He could see fabric had been shoved into her mouth, and that it was soaking up blood from her mouth. 

 

He couldn’t look at the floor any longer, when her blood was pooling beneath her. On the mantle he could see blood replenishing potions, and it was clear he’d been out for some time, and they intended to take her to the edge of death multiple times before they were done. 

 

Dolohov stood with his back to Draco, and it would have been simple to utter the killing curse, but he didn’t. His father was leaned against a wall, behind the chairs her parents had been bound to, his arms lazily folded across his chest. 

 

The Grangers had been obliviated before the start of what would have been Hermione’s final year at Hogwarts. He didn’t know much regarding her muggle family, but he knew she hadn’t been able to undo the spell, and that was the most dreadful part. 

 

Hermione grinded her teeth together through the crimson stained rag, attempting to undo the binds behind her. “Hermione,” The older woman gasped. Her face was red, tears streaked down her face. “Let her go!” She shrieked. Draco let out an uneasy breath. Their two chairs were sitting perhaps a foot apart, and he could side along with the two of them. The transfigured portkey around his neck felt heavy, and he could use it, but there was no guarantee he could get both parties to hold on, and successfully vanish. 

 

He decided on apparition, readying his wand. ‘Stupefy.” His voice was hushed, as he paid his father back for the the stunning charm that had rendered him nearly unconscious. Hermione’s head whipped around, her eyes wide, the rag slipping from her mouth as her lips parted in surprise. 

 

She mouthed his name. Dolohov stood behind her, a dagger in his hand, that was stained red. “Leave,” Dolohov spat. “Be my guest, but the second you do, I’ll shove this knife into her spine. It will paralyze her. A slow, painful death.” Hermione shook her head furiously, her eyes darting to the faces of her terrified parents. 

 

He knew what would have made her happy, but he’d never been particularly good at making anyone happy. 

* * *

  
  


He hadn’t ever asked Hermione how she and Theodore Nott remained friends after their entanglements, hadn’t bothered because he didn’t know whether he wanted to hear the truth, or to see it unfold before him. Seeing was believing. 

 

So that’s when he witnessed Theo shoving Goyle face first into a toilet and flushing, he still didn’t quite understand, but he did realize there had to be some foundation for the other boy to be so protective. The only surviving member of the Nott family was to the point, cruel to no end when he was sure Goyle had some sort of information pertaining to Hermione and Draco. 

 

Goyle choked on the water he’d inhaled, insisting that he had no idea what was going on. That no, he hadn’t been the one to place Harper under the Imperius Curse to take a shot at her on her birthday. 

 

“I know you didn’t teach him that spell, Goyle. Mione told me herself that you weren’t so bright that you could, so I’ll rephrase my sodding question. Did someone use you as a go between for Harper?” Harry gritted his teeth as the boy’s eyes widened, knowing they’d stumbled upon what they needed, but he said nothing. 

 

“Hey,” Came Blaise’s voice and a rapping on the door by his knuckles. “That auror they sent to talk to Hermione is coming down the hall. You need to figure something out.” 

 

Theo sighed, pulling his wand to dry the water from the room and Goyle. “I’d really like to say I’d hoped it wouldn’t come to this, but that would be a lie. I’m thrilled.” After pocketing his wand, and with Goyle swaying on his knees on the tile flooring of the boys’ bathroom, he looked to Harry with a smirk. 

 

Right before punching Harry Potter directly in the jaw with what had to be all of his strength, given the explosion behind his jaw and the howl of pain he released. “Great job, Greg.” Theo said happily. “You decked the boy who fucking lived. Let’s go.” He hauled him to his feet and met Auror Walters in the hallway, wearing his most triumphant grin before handing him off with a low threat whispered in Goyle’s ear that made his head turn in fear. 

 

All the while Harry held his jaw in his palm, thinking to himself no, he had no idea why Hermione kept Nott around at all. 

* * *

  
  


She’d been right that if he’d stepped through the door of this house, or rather been carried in while unconscious, he’d be put in Potter’s place. The only part that could be considered a silver lining was that her parents had been dumped into an adjoining room, no longer forced to bear witness. 

 

Which was in front of the girl he would die for, with a knife put in his hand and while she was restrained to a wall. He swallowed the bile in his throat, seeing her eyes droop. Her shirt was torn, leaving her skin visible. He still didn’t have an idea how long he’d been unconscious, nor did he have an idea if anyone was coming for them. Surely they were, but just as surely they would be unable to enter the house. 

 

So he might not know how long Dolohov had abused Hermione in front of her parents, but she was barely holding on. Draco rolled up his sleeves, baring the hideous mark he’d tried to scrub from his skin. Tried to remove from his skin via a knife once under the haze of Ogden’s. 

 

“Not your fault.” She mumbled as he stepped forward to her under the eye of the dark haired man behind him. “I know why you stayed, I do.” She winced at the first contact. He’d thrown up in the early days of the onset of the war, watching the tortue that took place in his own home, the first time he’d killed someone. He’d never thrown up since, coming a long way from a frightened child to who he was now. 

 

If he could turn and drive this dagger into Antonin’s throat, he wouldn’t blink. His stomach wouldn’t churn, and if his father struck him down, at least it would give her a chance. Had she been strong enough. 

 

“I think there’s a lot I wanted to tell you, Draco. A lot I would have grown to tell you one day, and I’m sorry I never will now. I’m sorry I ever dragged you into this. That I ever dragged you down with me.” 

 

He couldn’t reply. 

 

“She’s a mudblood.” Lucius spoke to him, far out of his reach on the likely chance he would have plunged the knife into his chest. “She’s apologizing for bringing you down. Filthy thing always knew she wasn’t good enough for you.” 

 

“I’m working on the binds.” She whispered. “It’s working. Play along.” His eyes widened.

 

“She’s worth more than you ever were.” Draco growled. “And if I could do it all over again, nothing would change. It was always going to be her.” The tip of the knife didn’t cut her beneath the pressure. He edged the blade further up the top of her arm. He’d only drawn blood when he had to while he’d tried to think of a plan. 

 

Or to convince the two men that her suffering would remain slow. 

 

“This,” Lucius ripped his left arm up from your side. “Is who you are, not a blood traitor.” 

 

“I am whoever she needs me be to be so unless you want to see how your blood is exactly the same, I’d suggest you go back to your hiding spot.” The knife in his hand stilled over her skin, right over the pulse in her wrist. Her fingers twitched towards the handle. 

 

“You don’t have to die with her,” It was as Lucius stepped towards him, his hand extended to Draco as if he could be any sort of father figure, that Hermione hands dropped from the bind and her crimson stained fingers wrapped around the hilt of the dagger. 

 

She slashed at the elder Malfoy, catching his left forearm, slicing through the Dark Mark that would inevitably heal. “You’ve lost everything.” He spat. Draco ripped his wand from the inner pocket of his coat, throwing up a defensive shield as his father vanished.  

 

“You can’t stand, Granger.” She nodded. “You’re not strong enough to,” She cut him off, seeing him stare at the man whose face had grown frighteningly pale.

 

“I know. Perhaps it’s just best we let him be thrown in Azkaban. I can’t live with it now. He’s unarmed.” 

 

“I made a promise.” She nodded. “He can’t live, not after what he’s done to you.” She nearly voiced the words inside her head, of how he’d tortured Draco psychologically instead of physically. “Goddammit, if you want to just turn him over, then fine.” 

 

“Just do it.” Her voice was soft. 

 

He expected her to pull away, to avert her eyes as she berated herself over another life. She had enough to be scared of, enough to scream out in her nightmares. If she couldn’t add the red to her ledger, than he would bear the weight. He’d add it to his own. But she didn’t yank away at how easy the choice was for him. 

 

She slipped her much smaller hand into his after dropping the knife, letting it fall to the wooden floor with a clatter. Dolohov stumbled over the remnants of something that sounded like a plea for his life. 

 

“Avada Kedavra.” His voice was gravelly, filled with the sort of raw emotion she couldn’t understand. Green light jutted from his wand, hitting Dolohov’s sternum and he crumpled to the ground. “Hermione.” She ripped her eyes away from the body that had fallen to the ground, and looked up at him, her eyes beginning to water. “You need a doctor, immediately.” Her arms were stained red, as was her neck, a trail leading down her shirt that he couldn’t bare to think about. 

 

“We’re alive.” She whispered, and his face softened while he looked down at her. “What I said, at first, about having things I’d have told you, or would tell you eventually, it wasn’t a lie. I thought it was over. I mean, obviously I was still trying, but there,” 

 

“Please let me get you out of here first.” She nodded, and erupted into silent sobs that racked her body. “We’re alive, okay? You’re going to go to St. Mungos as soon as possible to see healers, and then, then we can talk.” 

 

“Goddammit, I’ve heard that before, Draco.” He knelt down and pulled her into him, smoothing a hand down her spine. “It has to be now.” 

 

“It can’t be right now, love. Think rationally here. Were your parents injured in any sort of way? Can I apparate them into Hogwarts safely?” 

 

“No,” She told him. “They didn’t hurt them. I’m sure they would have if we hadn’t come, but God, they remember me and they knew everything I did. Everyone I killed.” 

 

“Doesn’t matter.” He clicked his tongue. “They’re relieved you’re alive, and they don’t give a damn what you had to do to stay that way.” 

 

Her mother’s features relaxed when Hermione stepped into the next room. “We’re leaving.” Hermione’s voice shook terribly. “Draco has to take you with him, so I need you to hold on to his hands, okay?” 

 

“You’re his son.” She spoke gently. 

 

“Unfortunately, I am.” 

 

“I’d like to meet your mother, Draco, was it? To properly thank her for raising you to protect my daughter.” 

 

“She’d be delighted.” The words were forced. Draco pulled the portkey from his neck and handed it to Hermione. “The Great Hall should be empty by now, don’t you think?” 

 

“Have we ever had luck on our side?” Hermione replied then. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter that I beat myself up over for the last three days. The next chapter is written and it's the largest at 5k words. Which I'd totally upload sooner, if you were to say, blow up my story. Lol. 
> 
> Aside my thinly veiled begging, I'm extremely glad I joined this site. I logged in today to see 10k hit overall and I'm just overwhelmed. Most of that is my smut side story, but that's okay. Thanks for supporting me if you read this! <3


	18. Chapter Eightteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE. 
> 
> I don't normally break my update schedule, but the amount of support I received yesterday was UNREAL. And I couldn't keep you waiting. Five thousand words for your enjoyment. So it's only edited by me. My beta hadn't had the chance yet, so any errors she finds, I'll come back to fix.

Hermione had been right, that luck had never been on their side as they appeared in the Great Hall in the middle of a dueling session, directed by Madame Sprout, who did in fact drop her wand as her eyes settled on them. “Miss Granger!” She yelled. Hermione swayed, and looked to Draco, who was moving to catch her before she hit the ground. 

 

“A wound reopened.” She managed between her heavy breaths. “Travel by portkey probably wasn’t safe for me.” 

 

“You should have said something then.” He snapped, while she slumped against him. “Get over here, Weasley.” He yelled to Ginny, and the redhead slipped Hermione’s arm over her other shoulder. “She has to get to St. Mungos.” Ginny only nodded, her eyes roaming over his bloodied hair, and the sight of the witch covered in so much blood, she wasn’t sure how she was alive. 

 

The double doors of the Great Hall were slammed open, revealing their Headmistress, who was flanked by Harry and Theo. Harry’s eyes shot wide open, and he stormed towards her, knocking Theo to the floor as he attempted to cut him off. “Harry.” She breathed, wrangling her arms free of the two at her sides and flung them around his neck. “Thank God you didn’t get out of the castle.” 

 

Harry smoothed her tangled hair down, his fingers accidently tearing through the strands that were matted down by blood. “Tell me Dolohov is dead.” He demanded Malfoy. “Give me the peace of mind you didn’t let him walk away after,” 

 

“He’s fucking dead, Potter.” Draco hissed. “He got a mercy he didn’t deserve.” 

 

Auror Walters bristled at that comment, but did not comment whether or not it had been self defense. “Lucius Malfoy fled Australia. Is this true?” 

 

“He disapparated the moment she broke through the binds Dolohov put her in.” He replied. 

 

“Do you have the slightest idea where he could have gone?” 

 

Hermione’s head whipped around and she glared at the auror. “If we had the slightest idea where that man was, we wouldn’t be here. We would be hunting him down.” 

 

The man sighed. “Very well. Before we can move you to see a doctor, I need to verify that you are who say you are.” 

 

“The hell you are.” Draco snapped. “She’s reopened at least three different wounds.” 

 

“Fine, but Harry is the one who asks me questions.” Hermione cut Draco off, eyeing him carefully. “Draco, come back from him.” She beckoned for him. “Harry.” 

 

“I need you to tell me something that only I would know, Hermione.” 

 

She swallowed hard. “After I killed Goyle Sr and we escaped, Antonin Dolohov captured us. He confined me to a bed, disrobing me, and setting in to torture me and carve into me with a knife.”    
  


“Anyone who has had access to your medical records would,” Walters began only to be silenced by Draco, whose grip on his wand bordered on snapping the wood. 

 

“I’m hardly finished.” She eyed her friends behind them uncomfortably, seeing the Slytherins, but Ron was absent. “Dolohov told you that you could sit and watch while he raped me before murdering me, or you could torture me yourself. You were forced to give me this.” She struggled to pull her shirt up, only to have Draco reach over and yank her shirt up. 

 

Harry looked as if he might cry at her retelling on their worst shared experience. “It’s her.” His voice sounded raw, while she turned away from him, barely standing on her own two feet. 

 

“I need you to tell me what happened between us during the Battle of Hogwarts in the Chamber of Secrets. It’s the only thing Lucius would never know.” He flinched as if she’d struck him. 

 

“Fuck that. They can dig through my mind instead.” He shook his head. 

 

“Draco, I’m not ashamed.” She spat, grabbing him by the shirt. “And you’re going with me, so spit it out before I bleed out in front of you.” 

 

He grinded his teeth. “After you saved my mother’s life, I followed you into the Chamber of Secrets. You were with Potter and Weasley. I thought I was going to die, and I’d already had feelings for you long before the war. I wanted to act on them before I died to Voldemort, because I’d already outed myself as a blood traitor. It’s where I kissed you for the first time.” She didn’t catch the bewildered expression that flitted across Harry’s face. “We need to fucking  _ go _ .” 

 

Her chest burned, no the locket around her neck burned against her chest. She didn’t take his hand like she should have as she fished it from the tatters of her shirt. Turning it over between her thumb and index fingers, she saw a message scrawled across the back.  _ Killing Curse.  _

 

Hermione snatched the wand from Draco’s hand and spun around to take a look at the room. Goyle stood in front of the crowd, a long cut winding up the side of his face to his temple. She swallowed, readying the borrowed wand in her hand and raising it for a counter curse. 

 

Except it all happened extremely fast and he didn’t aim for her. With a look cast over her shoulder, she saw he’d pointed his wand towards Theo, who hadn’t drawn his own wand. “No.” The scream that tore it’s way free of her throat was loud, and she was sure that no one who heard her would ever forget the sound of it as she put herself in front of Theo, latching her arms around his neck. She tossed up a weak shield that couldn’t have held up against a stunning spell, much less an avada. 

 

She waited for the last pitiful seconds of her life to pass as she held onto one of her dearest friends. She waited to greet death without fear, but it never came. She slumped to the floor as something that made her feel incredibly numb struck her in the middle of her back. 

 

“Hermione!” It was Draco. It was always him, she thought dumbly, as he pulled her off of the floor. “Goddammit.”

 

“Not dead.” She muttered, cupping his face. “I’m alright.” His arm was tight around her back as he crushed her to him. 

 

“Goyle is dead.” Ginny said it outloud first, and whispering filled the Great Hall. Hermione struggled to look over Draco’s shoulder, seeing the familiar figure lying on the floor, utterly lifeless. 

 

“I didn't do that.” She gasped. “I didn’t kill him!” 

 

“I know, Miss Granger.” The Auror’s voice was hushed against the noise that had erupted into the school. “The killing curse, it hit you only to misfire. He was killed by his own spell. There’s nothing you could have done.” 

 

She grasped the locket in her hand, feeling it burn. “Draco,” She murmured. “I need to talk to your mother.” 

 

“You need a goddamned doctor.” He growled. 

 

“You sound like a broken record.” She managed a smile at the way his eyes widened in anger. “I’m okay. I’m here with you, and that’s what’s the most important isn’t, it?” 

 

“You are the most infuriating person in my life, and you haven’t heard the last of this.” She was sure she hadn’t. Just like she was sure that he would wait until she were healed to properly fight with her about this. “Yes, it’s what most important, you reckless swot.” He picked her up in one fluid moment, arms beneath the backs of her knees and around her back. “She’s going to be okay, Theo.” 

 

She managed to barely squeeze Theo’s shoulder as Draco rushed for the floo network in McGonagall’s office. She winced at the shell shocked expression on his face, the realization that he would be dead if not for her reckless acts, and the realization that it was only luck she’d survived herself. She hadn’t the slightest clue that her birthday present had come with certain protections attached, and even if she hadn’t had it, she still would have sacrificed herself. 

 

“I’m sorry.” She told Draco, whose jaw was set. “I know that you must be angry with me, and I know,” 

 

“I don’t know if I’m angry that you have such a good heart that you would sacrifice yourself for those you love, or that if I’d had the ability to slow time and choose who I’d have had to bury, I would know who I’d have chosen to live.” She stared at him, her brown eyes open wide, and her mouth parted. Well, she didn’t have a response to  _ that. _

* * *

  
  


Draco sat in the lobby of the hospital, his elbows on his knees as he buried his face in his hands. “Mate,” Theo offered him a cup of coffee. He’d gone with Potter to a shop in muggle London. “It will help keep you awake.” He took it from his extended hand without a word. “Any news since we left?” 

 

He shook his head. “No, not really. Her mother came out to tell me that Granger is currently undergoing a full examination to see if there’s anything wrong we can’t see. Like if they cursed her before I woke up in the house.” He hadn’t offered a full explanation of what exactly had happened in Australia while they had been gone in the last two days, and the friends surrounding him had been understanding in not asking him. 

 

The exception being Ron Weasley who hadn’t asked him about the last forty eight hours, but rather whether or not what he’d said in the Great Hall was true or not. Draco had thrown him a dirty look, sneering his way and exposing his teeth. “That’s what you’re thinking about right now, while healers are putting her back together? You want to ask me if it’s true that I kissed her?” He’d stalked towards him, the physical representation of danger. “If I say yes, will you ask me if I’ve shagged her next?” At the awkward clearing of her father’s throat, he’d dialed back his anger. “I’m sorry for that.” He told the older man. 

 

He waved him off. “My daughter has become a strong woman since I last saw her, and I can see she is an adult. She wouldn’t want the two people she holds dear to her to lower themselves to a fight while in a hospital. She’d tell you it’s a place for healing.” 

 

“Well, if Weasley keeps on, he may just need a healer.” Draco interjected, going back to his seat and the still steaming cup of coffee he’d sat on the table beside him. “You’re torturing yourself by asking, and you know it.” He told the redhead sitting across from him in the waiting room. Theo had taken a spot beside Blaise and Pansy. Harry stood closer to the elder man in the room, assuming the role as a buffer between the two men who were glaring at each other. 

 

“You don’t deserve her.” Ron told him. “She’s too good for you.” 

 

Draco only nodded, taking a sip of the coffee that scalded his tongue. “I’m going to tell you a secret. She’s too good for anyone, Weasel and you must know that. The difference between you and I is that I’ve never pretended I deserved her. If you want the truth, I told her in the Chamber of Secrets that I wanted her to have the life she must have wanted at some point in her life. I told her to go off and marry you, despite the fact that the thought of leaving someone who I would have died for to you felt like a sharp knife twisted in my gut. I told her to give you a chance.” 

 

“I’ve seen her with you, Malfoy. When we came back to Hogwarts, she picked back up with you like you’d never been apart. I didn’t stand a chance once you wedged yourself between us.” 

 

“It wasn’t me who didn’t make a move for seven years. That was you. I never made her jealous with some bint who didn’t mean a thing to me. And I didn’t try to force her into shagging me either, telling her she needed to get over it. That was all you. I gave you your chance, and you fucked yourself over.” Draco finished his sentence calmer than he felt before taking another drink of his coffee. 

 

“I didn’t know about Dolohov.” He muttered. 

 

“Neither did I, and somehow I managed to not shove my hand into her knickers. Funny you can’t say the same, isn’t it?” 

 

“Sod off, Malfoy. I told her you hadn’t changed at all. You’re still the same prick you’ve always been.” 

 

“So I am, but I’ll tell you one thing. I know you want to talk to her yourself, and by all means, I get that. But if you think you’re going to interrogate her before she’s feeling like herself, you’d better rethink your plans unless you want to find out how much I haven’t changed.” Draco left the room, throwing his half empty coffee cup into the trash can as he walked out. 

 

He’d never been a patient person, and waiting to see her was the worst test of the virtue he didn’t have. Draco sat on a bench outside the door she was behind, and wished for the upteenth time he’d never let her leave that castle, never let her chase after her ghosts when he should have just hunted them down himself. She’d be furious with him, but he’d rather have that than her back in a hospital bed like she had been a month earlier. 

 

“You look like you feel, dear.” He recognized Jean’s voice, and winced at the loving tone in it. “Would you like to talk about it?” 

 

“With all due respect, Mrs. Granger, I doubt you want to hear my troubles. I think they would only make this ordeal even worse for you.” 

 

She sighed. “Oh, I very much doubt that. Hermione was coherent before the sedative took effect. I’m not so sure that’s the terminology wizards use, but it was a blue potion.” Draco nodded. “She told me what happened when those men moved us into the other room. She told me how Harry had been put in the same position.” 

 

“Well, I’m sure I’m the last person you’d like to see then. If it weren’t for me, she wouldn’t have the injuries she does.” 

 

She smiled a soft smile, but her voice left no room for him to disagree. “If it weren’t for the injuries you gave my daughter, I have every reason to believe she’d be dead right now. The way you look at her, Draco, I’ve seen it everyday for the last twenty years when I wake up beside my husband. I can’t understand what’s happened in your world in the last year, but she is my daughter. I raised that stubborn little girl in there, and I’ll tell you if you hadn’t chosen to take that knife yourself, she’d have caused so much hell that you’d both still be crawling out from under it.” 

 

“Did she get that from you?” He asked, a chuckle slipping out of him. 

 

“I like to think she came up with it on her own. She told me after her first year of Hogwarts, I would have been a Hufflepuff.” Draco snorted. “Which after she told me what the song said about them, I think it’s fitting. Not to mention, honey badgers eat snakes.” 

 

“Well, that’s terrifying.” He muttered under his breath. 

 

“I know you feel guilty, but I hope you’re able to let that go. Both you and Harry were put into a hard position, and you made the right choice, no matter how much it hurts to say that. I’d rather have my daughter lick her wounds, and damage her pride than have to bury her.” 

 

“I thought she was dead when she hit the floor at Hogwarts. I thought I’d lost her, and I hadn’t been able to do anything about it.” Jean Granger took hold of his hand, squeezing lightly. 

 

“It felt like losing half of yourself, didn’t it?” He nodded, not meeting her eyes, not even for a moment. If Hermione could see through him, her mother must have been even better at it than her daughter. “I’m sorry this happened to you, to both of you really. Your father is truly a despicable man, and I’m incredibly sorry for what you’ve been subjected to by someone who should have protected you.” 

 

“He was always on the wrong side, and so was I for a long time. It was almost too late by the time I saw he was wrong.” 

 

“She told me about that. Hermione came home for her breaks and for summer. She wasn’t always willing to talk to me, and that was her pride talking. But she mentioned your name once she had to explain to me what the term mudblood meant.” 

 

“Fuck,’ He muttered, jerking his hand away from her as if it burned. “I was horrible to her, and I will likely never understand why she’s forgiven me.” 

 

“She didn’t hate you, not even then. But if you need a reason, Draco, my dear, it’s because when the time came, you fought on her side. You fought for her, you’re still fighting for her, and you’re the walking proof that children are not their parents. So while I don’t understand the difference between quidditch and football, I do understand that Hermione came home and told us that I would have been a Hufflepuff. And that her father would have been a Slytherin, and she told him that was okay because he was one of the good ones. 

 

“So if it means anything at all, theoretically a Slytherin and a Hufflepuff came together, had a child and she turned out to be a Gryffindor, which I don’t remember that damn song she sang that first summer. I imagine the word is synonymous with reckless, righteous and always needing to do the right thing. She’s always known that the right thing isn’t often easy. Your weaknesses do not make you. The mark on your arm, yes she’s told me, doesn’t make you. The choices you make in the face of adversity make you.” 

 

Draco grinned at her, a sarcastic reply on the tip of his tongue because he couldn’t quite bring himself to tell the woman thank you, even though her words had hti close to him. “People say Hermione is always right, but she got one thing wrong. You’re not Hufflepuff. Must be a Gryffindor.” He turned up his nose as he said it, and she laughed. “I could smell the self righteousness a mile away.” 

 

She shrugged. “Good thing I never went to Hogwarts then. I’m not a Hufflepuff, or a Gryffindor. I’m a mother, and apparently I was a dentist.” 

 

“I’m unsure of whether you were serious when you said you wanted to meet my mother, but she’ll be here soon. She’s rather fond of Hermione.” 

 

“I would be thrilled to meet her. Hermione told me they’ve exchanged letters. I’m thankful for your mother acting as a who my daughter needed while I wasn’t here. It’s nice to meet the people who love my daughter.” 

 

“I don’t,” 

 

“Shh, it’s yours to say. Mothers always know first. As far as I’m concerned, she couldn’t have picked anyone better.” He swallowed. “I’m going to head back in there for now, but wait here a bit longer. They’re almost done. You’re the first one she wants to see.” 

* * *

  
  


She felt horrible, like her insides were stone. “Granger.” She sighed at his voice, but he waited until the doctor left them alone in the room before he moved towards her. She managed to sit herself upright in the bed, latching onto the front of his shirt and pulling him down to her. “It’s okay.” He told her quietly, rubbing circles on her back. She moved over, letting him sit beside her in the bed. 

 

“I’m okay.” She told him. “I’m just sore, but I’ll be fine. I’ll have to bathe myself in dittany to escape the scars, but I’ll manage.” 

 

He laughed at that. “Think you can manage taking a bath without help?” He ventured. 

 

“If not, I’ll let you know.” She smirked. “How long have you been waiting?” 

 

“It’s just past six hours now. Everyone is here for you, including Weasley.” He glared as he said the name. “Which he is going to want to talk to you, but I threatened him to wait until after you were fully healed.” 

 

“You picked a fight with him, didn’t you?” She accused. 

 

“Hardly.” he scoffed. “He asked me if what I said was true, and it went downhill from there. He brought it on himself.” She shook her head. “I didn’t say anything I didn’t mean, and I didn’t say anything he didn’t deserve.” 

 

“So, my mother says she spoke with you.” 

 

“She did.” He smiled. “You’re a lot like her.” Hermione shrugged, rolling on her side to face him. She tugged him down to lay beside her in the bed. “Granger, your friends are going to be in here any minute.” 

 

“Are you a wizard, or aren’t you?” She smirked. “Lock the door. I want to enjoy the time I have with you right now. Unless you’d like to go. In that case, there’s the door.” He glared at her as he cast the locking spell, placing his wand on the table beside the bed. 

 

“I’m never letting you out of my sight, Granger.” Her lips curved into a soft smile as she settled into him, resting her head on his shoulder. “Nothing good ever happens when I do.” 

 

“You didn’t know Lucius was already there.” She murmured to him, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “But I suppose I do have a knack for attracting trouble.”

 

“It must be a Gryffindor trait, which speaking of your house, you’re dead wrong if you think your mother wouldn’t have been one.” She laughed then. 

 

“She told you that?” 

 

“She did, and I told her I could smell her self righteousness a mile away.” 

 

Hermione shook her head. “She’d tell you it was hope. Who would have thought you’d ever talk to my mother? Or debate with me what house a muggle would have been sorted into?” 

 

Draco moved behind her, laying against the uncomfortable mattress and wrapping his arm around her. “A lot has changed, hasn’t it?” She nodded, pressing her lips to the exposed skin of his neck softly. “You don’t want to do that here.” 

 

“Control yourself.” She scolded playfully. Hermione struggled to sit herself upright, looking down at him. “Can I ask you something?” She pulled at the blanket on the bed, her fingers trembling. “Is Theo okay?” 

 

He sighed. “Physically, but you already knew that. He’s shaken up, but once he sees you, that will help.” 

 

“What about you? Are you okay?” 

 

“Granger, all I needed was a shower and simple healing. I escaped with some bruises, and you were tortured.” 

 

“I don’t mean physically, you prick. I mean emotionally, and I have no choice but to ask because you’re never forthcoming.” 

 

He closed his eyes, thinking to himself. “I thought it hurt to care for someone who despised me, who didn’t look at me twice. So, seeing you put yourself in front of a killing curse, it gutted me. I’m fine, so long as I’m with you. The heartbreak I felt is not something I will ever forget, and I hope I never have to feel that again.” 

 

“Draco.” She placed her hands on either side of his face. “I’m so sorry.” She choked out, seeing how his eyes had watered, only slightly. “I wish I knew what to say.” 

 

“I’ve tried to tell you I’m no good for you, but everytime I try to stay away, I just can’t. Fucking hell, I need you, Hermione.” She nodded at that, quickly wiping away her tears. “I don’t care if I’m not good enough for you, I can’t,” Hermione leaned forward, pressing her lips against his sofly. He’d muttered her name as she laid down on the bed, tugging him to hover over her. 

 

“You are a far better man than you believe you are.” She told him, winding her fingers through soft strands of hair. He grunted his disagreement, but otherwise didn’t dispute it further. 

 

This kiss was different from all the others, in a way that made her come alive. It was needy, as if this were the only way to let the other know that they were here, that they were staying. And in the back of her head, she knew Draco’s possessive nature would never let anyone come between them. 

 

She heard herself gasp his name as he bit her bottom lip, tracing it with his tongue before he kissed her once more. He’d buried his hand into her hair, his fingers curling to drag her closer. “We need to stop before this gets away from us.” He told her. Draco leaned his forehead against hers. “Everyone is waiting, and they love gossip.” 

 

She smiled. “A rain check then?” 

 

“You should sit up and fix your awful hair before they come in and think I shagged you senseless anyways.” 

 

“Well,” She clicked her tongue. “It’s nice to see some things will never change.” Draco sat with his back to the mattress that was elevated for them sit comfortably as the healers allowed her friends to come through, and her parents entered last. “Where’s Ron?” She asked Harry and Ginny. “Draco said he was here.” 

 

“He left after talking to Malfoy.” She looked at the man behind her, one eyebrow raised. “He knows he doesn’t have the self control to be here without asking you about the Chamber of Secrets, Hermione.” 

 

“Oh,” She deflated. “I suppose that makes sense. Mature of him.” 

 

“Cowardly is more like it.” Draco snapped, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “I’m going to drag that arsehole back here. He should be here when you could have died.” 

 

“It’s alright.” She told him, but her chest felt heavier than it had been moments before. She’d always known the truth was inevitable, and that she would have to confront the fact that she may as well have cheated on Ron before they’d ever committed. “He has the right to be angry. I lied to him after giving him all that hell about Lavender. I was a hypocrite.” 

 

“The difference here is he cheated on you. You didn’t cheat on him. I would have never done it if you were dating that prick.” She rolled her eyes at his words. 

 

“Even so, he’s been my best friend for years and I lied to him the whole way through.” 

 

“Completely to interrupt, what does it matter? Has he told you every girls he’s snogged? I know you feel guilty, but this happened before,” 

 

She cut Theo off in the middle of his sentence, rubbing her temples. “Well, Theo, you see, all the girls he snogged weren’t the reason I ended it. I’m not going to have this conversation beyond the fact that there were several reasons I broke things off with him. One of them, despite it being smaller than the others, is Draco bloody Malfoy. He’s not stupid,” She elbowed Draco in the ribs when he snorted. “And I know how it feels to realize you never even had the chance.” 

 

“Okay.” Harry dragged the word out. “Ginny and I brought you a change of clothes. They say you’re healed for travel, and that there’s nothing else they can do here.” Hermione nodded, reaching out to take the blue jumper and jeans from his extended hand. “The auror that was here said the safest place for you is Hogwarts.” 

 

“I don’t want to go back there, ever.” She managed to say, though her voice cracked. “Gregory Goyle is dead and I didn’t mean for that,” 

 

“He would have killed Theo.” Pansy spoke from her place beside Blaise, her hands clasped in front of her. “And he would have killed you.” Hermione broke her eyes away from her friends and stared hard at the blanket, wishing she didn’t feel the tears pooling in her eyes. “It was an accident, and forgive me for saying so, but I don’t think you should feel guilty. It was Theo or him.” 

 

“Right.” She murmured, wishing Pansy’s rational thinking made it hurt any less. “I’m going to get dressed, so everybody out.” Her mother ushered everyone out, insisting to Ginny and Pansy that it would only be a moment, and that, yes, they too needed to leave. 

 

“Careful.” Her mother warned her as she tugged the gown from her body. “Arms up, I’ll slide the sleeves down.” 

 

“You’re handling all this better than I expected.” 

 

“What did you expect?” 

 

“For you to be angry I took your memories away. Or angry that I’ve killed in this war, or that I keep throwing myself into danger.” 

 

“Hermione,” Jean’s lips pressed into a thin line as she pulled the jumped down, adjusting it. “You are my only child. I’m not angry for what you’ve done to protect your father and I. I might be upset, but only because I’ve been gallivanting around Australia not knowing my daughter was fighting for her life. You’re much too hard on yourself, you always have been. I know you had no choice, and while it burns you from the inside out, the remorse keeps you human. 

 

“And as much as I loathe knowing when this Lucius Malfoy comes around once more, you won’t run the other way, I can’t be angry for who you are.” She pressed the tip of her finger to Hermione’s nose. “We raised you. I will do anything in my power to keep you and that young man from running off, but hypothetically, if you had to vanish on us again, I’m quite sure the two of you will keep the other alive.” 

 

“You’re too calm.” 

 

“I’m still processing everything that’s happened in the last few days. Do you think his mother will come to visit you? He’d said so, but I do honestly want to meet her. The boy seems a bit afraid of me.” 

 

“He says you would have been a Gryffindor.” 

 

“That’s nonsense. I’m a mother, and I’d like to thank the woman who stood in my place for you.” Hermione smiled. “There.” She said as she buttoned the button on her jeans. 

 

Hermione walked down the hallway beside her mother, their hands entwined, to the lobby. “Narcissa.” Her name was barely a whisper as the thin blonde rose from the chair. 

 

“I’m so glad you’re alive.” She sobbed, reaching out to yank Hermione into a fierce hug. “The two of you have to promise me you will never do this to me again!” She pointed a finger at Draco, who muttered something about making promises he couldn’t keep. Hermione wrapped her arms around the older woman’s back, feeling her heartbeat unevenly against her own chest. 

 

“Can you please tell me what you did to this necklace?” Narcissa pulled back, her cheeks red. “Aurors looked at it, and they’ve told me it’s not dark magic. I don’t understand.” 

 

“Well,” She paused, looking at the parents behind their daughter. “It’s a story you’ve all heard. Lily Potter saved her only son, Harry, when Voldemort attempted to kill him in his crib. Sometimes what you need is a mother’s love.” 

 

She heard her mother choke on a sob behind her, trying to force a thank you. She didn’t move from her spot, as if she were rooted on the floor as her eyes grew wide. “You are dear to me, Hermione. You’re as much my family as Draco is, and I knew that there would come a time where you were in danger. Or someone you cared for, and I knew you’d take that curse yourself. There’s no version of this story I want to read that doesn’t have you.” 

 

Hermione nodded dumbly, and launched herself forward to hug Narcissa more tightly than she already had. “Thank you.” She whispered to her. “For everything.” 

 

“Who the hell let you in, Skeeter? Get out.” Harry’s voice was loud, it made her jump. 

 

“It’s a public hospital, Mr. Potter. I have just a few questions. Miss Granger,” Hermione turned around, glaring at the woman. “After reviewing reports from the students of Hogwarts, my first question is what do you think of Mr. Malfoy’s patronus? Did you have any idea?” 

 

His face had drained of the little color it had. “I didn’t know he could cast a patronus. I don’t see what that matters to me.” Narcissa’s hand had tightened on her shoulder. 

 

“You don’t know the form it takes?” Skeeter’s grin made her sick, made her stomach twist into knots as she looked like Christmas had come early. “Then your reaction should do well enough.” Hermione watched in dread as the enchanted quill poised itself to write mid air. “A patronus can change when you undergo a life changing experience, such as falling in love. It can only be casted when you can think of your happiest memory. So Miss Granger, how do you feel that Mr. Malfoy’s patronus is a lion?” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to state that I'm only sort of sorry for the cliffhanger. And second, I want to ask if you want me to just update whenever I'm done? Because typically, my chapters are done two weeks in advance. The reason for it was (I know I"m greedy for attention.) on Fanfiction, this story didn't get a lot of attention in the beginning, and I wanted to *hopefully* gain more attention. Which really just sounds stupid now. 
> 
> So if you could let me know which is better for you as a reader, that would be great. Also tell me what you think, because this reveal is probably my favorite I've written. Thanks for boosting my confidence so much yesterday. I can't explain how much it meant. I'm rambling. Okay bye!


	19. Chapter Nineteen

_ Her breath caught in her throat as she tore her eyes away from the vile woman in front of her, and stared at him. In a trademark fashion, his hands were curled into fists at his sides, and she knew that his nails had to be cutting into his palms. There was a long moment where no one said anything at all, and it was silent in the waiting room, save for the enchanted quill scratching against her notepad.  _

 

_ She knew her eyes had to be wide as she walked towards him, coming to stand nearly chest to chest with him, tilting her head to the side. “Is it true?” She whispered to him, her eyes drifting to the way he reached into his inner coat pocket to grab his wand. “Draco, say something to me.”  _

 

_ “Incendio,” He grumbled, waving his wand during the incantation and she knew without looking that the notepad had already burst into flames.  _

* * *

  
  


He hadn’t been willing to say anything at the hospital, not under the careful watch of her friends and family, not to mention his own mother. She had returned to Hogwarts beside Harry, and Ginny. Meanwhile Draco had been pulled along by his mother, and Hermione had muttered to him to pick her up a replacement wand from Ollivanders. She’d told him how she would reimburse him the money, only to be called an idiot and to be kissed harshly in front of Harry. 

 

Her friend didn’t have all that much to say regarding the Malfoy heir. Instead rather, he needed to yell about the likes of Theodore Nott and how Hermione Granger had ever fallen into bed with him, much less remained friends with the bastard. With a smile, she took note that Harry called him a bastard every other word nearly, and she thought to herself how Theo would have told him he needed to brush up on his insults. 

 

“He punched you?” She exclaimed, but choked on her laughter shortly after. The walk up from Hogsmeade was loud as he explained in vivid detail that their plan for Goyle to give them information had gone sideways, and Theo, being the sodding idiot he was, decided to incriminate the other Slytherin by punching Harry in the jaw. 

 

It was as they finally entered the castle, that she saw Harry lean down to whisper in Ginny’s ear. She nodded, waving goodbye and walking away from the pair. Hermione shoved her hands into her pockets, staring at the stone floor beneath her feet. “I know you think I need to talk about this, but I don’t.” 

 

“You’re probably right. You’ve always been stronger than I am with this, but I think I need to talk about it. About Dolohov, and that hell week we spent with him. I know we agreed not to,” 

 

She nodded her head. “We’d barely gotten out of there when we agreed to that, Harry. It was too raw then, and it would have hurt us more than helped. It helped me when I said it outloud finally, like it wasn’t just some horrible nightmare I’d had. It was real.” 

 

“Did you kill him?” 

 

She shook her head, feeling her eyes well with tears. “No,” She stammered. “When they stashed Draco upstairs, Lucius snapped my wand in half, so I don’t have one at the moment. What Dolohov put you through, the choice he made you make, he put it on Draco too.” She wiped her tears away with the back of her sleeve. “By the end of it, he probably wanted to murder him more than either one of us ever did.” 

 

“God, he was a wreck when they tried to separate the two of you at the hospital. He was holding onto you so tightly, Hermione. And you just weren’t letting go. It makes sense why now.” 

 

She felt like more the puppet on a string as she nodded. “Seeing me dive in front of Theo like I did, it probably destroyed him the most.” 

 

“You’re underestimating how much the rest of us care about you.” 

 

“No, it’s you who is underestimating how much he cares about me, and I don’t want that to sound ridiculous. I managed to undo the binds; it took every last bit of strength that I had, but I did it anyways. Not like we were getting out of there if I didn’t. Lucius disapparated as soon as I came off the wall. It was me who had second thoughts about Dolohov. I said we should just turn him over to the authorities, that he was unarmed. He’d have let me do it, but I ended up telling Draco to just do it. He casted an avada straight at his heart. Then we ended up here.” 

 

“I was in Transfiguration with McGonagall when she knew you’d come through, but there’s nothing to tell about that. The day before Malfoy sent a patronus to McGonagall during breakfast. You know, I’d thought there had to be some kind of secret relationship between you two, but I’d never thought he was in love with-” 

 

“Don’t say it, Harry.” 

 

“You can’t seriously think you can just ignore that fact that his happiest memories are of you, and that they are strong enough to shape a patronus charm! You can’t ignore this.” 

 

“I’m not ignoring the fact, but I think it’s his right to tell me how he feels. Not for me to pick apart and present him with a case before he ever has the chance!” She sighed at the sight in front of her. Harry was waving his arms about, his eyes dark in anger. “I should have told you.” 

 

“You should have, but I’m not angry you didn’t. Let me guess, you didn’t want to make me lie to Ron?” She shook her head. “I’m disappointed, that we’ve gone through more than we should have had to, and you didn’t trust me with this.” 

 

“Merlin, Harry, I was humiliated!” She screamed at him. “What was I supposed to tell you? That I’d snogged the one person you quite literally hated for years? That all of a sudden I had these feelings, ones I still don’t understand, mind you. Would it have been better for me say he’d hurt me by telling me to choose Ron because he was good for me? Would you have even believed me if I told you Malfoy wasn’t the reason I wanted away from Ron?” She’d gone off the deep end, and she knew immediately that multiple students would be able to hear her. She wasn’t acting as a Head Girl of Hogwarts should have, but she had to face the fact she hadn’t been behaving as she should have from the beginning of the term. 

 

“You should know me better than that, Hermione.” He rested a hand on her shoulder, and tugged her backwards when she attempted to storm away. “Ron is my best mate, and I’ll always have his back. You act like I’ve only ever put him first, but you know that’s not true. Ron and I have gone through the years of our life together, but it was also him who left  _ us _ . In the middle of a sodding war with the worst wizard since Grindelwald.” 

 

“I know that.” She bit out.

 

“Do you? Because you’re acting like I would have abandoned you if you’d just told me the truth. I know you get defensive, you always fucking have. And I know you well enough to realize if I want to get anything out of you, I have to piss you off!” 

 

She took a breath. “Harry Potter, you are an incredibly lucky man that I don’t have a wand right now.” 

 

He smirked. “Then strategically, this is the best time to get what I want.” 

 

“You’re the worst.” She groaned, sliding down the wall to take a seat on the floor. “Have a seat. I’m sure we will be here for a while.” Harry sat beside her, reaching down to grab her hand and slide his fingers through hers. “I was embarrassed. I’d tried with Ron, but if we’re all honest, we all knew it was never going to pan out. We’re too different, I guess.” 

 

“Maybe it’s that you’d been pining after him for your entire childhood and when it happened, it just wasn’t what you thought.” 

 

She scoffed. “Sure, let’s run with that. And then Draco bloody Malfoy falls into my lap, excuse me, falls into a tiny crevice in the wall with me.” 

 

“Bet that tiny crevice didn’t leave much to your imagination, did it?” 

 

“Oh, you’re such an arse.” She laughed. 

 

“I get it though. Sometimes. Well, I don’t think you can ever fall out of love, but I think it can change. Like being with someone who you grow to see more as a brother.” His voice trailed off at the end and she turned to stare at him. 

 

“Something has happened, hasn’t it?” He nodded, and she felt his grip tighten on her hand. “Was it Ginny?” 

 

“It wasn’t bad.” He told her. “We both knew it was coming. There was nothing there for us anymore. We agreed it was for the best.” 

 

“You didn’t tell me.” Hermione said. “Which is kind of fair.” 

 

He laughed. “It happened the night you left. This was before I knew you left, obviously. She came to me, and it hurt like hell, but it was time.” 

 

“Holding on hurts more than letting go, you know.” She replied, wishing she’d been more observant. 

 

“My breakup with Ginny doesn’t actually hurt that much. I think I wanted someone to be there for me more than anything else. To get me through the rough nights.” She nodded. 

 

“I should have been here for you.” 

 

“Yeah, probably, but I should have known it was more than flashbacks that haunted you after the war.” 

 

“He’s not a bloody ghost, Harry.” 

 

“If he hurts you one more time, he may as well be. Tell him he can shack up with the Bloody Baron for all I care.” 

 

“Well, this is completely to change the subject because this is uncomfortable, but I have a promise to keep if you want to come along.” She could feel her stomach twisting and the panic climbing up her throat. “Before I left, I told Harper I would tell him what happened to his brother, and I need to know if he still wants to open that wound for himself.” 

 

Harry’s lips parted as he sucked in a sharp breath. “That sounds like a very bad idea, Hermione.” 

 

“Haven’t you heard? All of my ideas are rubbish lately? And I need to confront this, and I need to get this guilt off of my chest. If it’s not too much to ask, it would be easier if you were with me.” 

 

“I’m with you, for better or worse apparently. What’s your ring size, by the way? Do I have to duel Malfoy for your honor?” 

 

She laughed loudly, hearing it echo down the corridor. “Harry Potter, I love you dearly, and I could never doubt your abilities. Malfoy would crush you if it came down to me. Please don’t make me hurt your feelings.” He huffed in response.

 

* * *

 

She’d been in Hogwarts during the bustling celebrations, during the fallout of the Triwizard cup as one Cedric Diggory had been brought back as a corpse. She’d stepped inside of the familiar stone walls when it was nothing more than ruins of a lost time, when it had become a warzone. All of the good time, and the bad, that she’d never be able to take with a grain of salt. Well, it wouldn’t have prepared her for this. 

 

Professor Slughorn, as excited as he was to see her knock on his classroom door, grew somber at her request. Harry was wound tightly beside her, as they followed the professor into the Potions classroom. She recognized the class as lower years, second years to be precise. She caught the awe, and flinched away from it. She caught the horror cross a few faces, and she had already known that something on this scale couldn’t be held from the school. 

 

“I should ask you why you’re asking for this, Miss Granger.” Slughorn was stiff, his arm jerking as he handed her the vial. “Veritaserum is a very serious potion. To use it on someone for you own suspicions would put your credibility at risk.” 

 

She took the vial, her fingertips meeting the chilled glass. “Yes, Professor Slughorn, I understand completely. I don’t intend to force another individual to drink this. I intend to drink it myself.” 

 

“Why? Miss Granger, I’ve not known you all of your years in Hogwarts, but forcing yourself to speak the truth seems out of character for yourself.” 

 

She swallowed, telling herself that this was not the moment to break down even when it was inevitable. “I’m not afraid that I will lie, Professor.” Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Harry tracing the white scar on his hand. “I’m afraid I won’t have the courage to tell it on my own.” She remembered her parents never telling her, but leading her through childhood with the example. The right thing couldn’t always be easy. Otherwise everyone would being doing it. 

 

And that sometime you have to tell the truth, even if your voice shakes. 

 

“I’ll trust you to your own judgement.” He responded to them, ushering them out of the class, only to have several students interrupt him. 

 

“Are you okay?” She turned slowly to face the class, her fingers wrapped tightly around the glass vial in the palm of your hand. “I heard that you almost died.” The young boy had a timid voice, wrapped in Ravenclaw colors. 

 

“I’m going to be fine.” She forced the words out, knowing that physically they were true. And that her mental health wasn’t the business of second years. “It was a close call, and I was extremely reckless in my actions. I should have been more cautious.”

 

“Are your parents okay?” The same boy had stood from his seat, and she caught the attention of their Professor, who only nodded. 

 

“They’re both well, thank you. They were unharmed.” She looked at Harry. “Is there something that you’re really wanting to ask me?” 

 

He flushed, looking away from her. “There’s rumors of what happened to you-”

 

“And you wonder what happened?” It was the softest her voice could have been, and as much as she wanted to, she didn’t flinch when he nodded. “There are somethings that you don’t need to know about when you’re twelve and this is one of them. A very bad man hurt me during the war, and he hurt me again. The only thing you need to understand is that monsters exist, and it’s okay to be afraid of them, but you don’t let them win.” 

 

Hermione lifted her sleeve to her eyes while exiting the classroom, mumbling that she was tired of giving the answers everyone expected her to say. 

 

She waited for the last classes to release for the day, and silently thanked whoever was listening that Draco hadn’t come back to Hogwarts yet. He’d think it was an awful idea, to relive all her worst nightmares for the sake of her guilt. He’d yell, or tell her why it wasn’t her fault this child’s brother turned out to be a sadistic rapist. He’d tell her that she was masochistic, or that she was irrational in hoping for the forgiveness, or for some sort of redemption. 

 

She was chasing something she might never find, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t try. 

 

Hermione waited at the bottom of the Astronomy Tower with Harry leaned against the wall beside her. As the students trailed down the steps, she looked for him, wondering if he’d skipped classes that day. 

 

“Harper!” Harry had caught sight of him, near the back of the crowd, deep in a conversation with a girl. Their hands were entwined between them as his head jerked up. “Get over here.” Harry jerked his hand, motioning for him to hurry up. She watched as Harper told the girl goodbye and walked towards them. 

 

“You’re alive.” He stated. 

 

“That I am.” She replied. “I made you a promise, and if you want me to follow through then I will. I want to tell you first that it’s awful. That I can’t apologize anymore than you can forgive me. If your brother is any sort of hero to you, this isn’t what you want.” 

 

“I want to know the truth.” 

 

“Okay.” She sighed. “There’s an empty classroom down the hall. We’ll do this there.” She dangled the vial in front of his face. “I doubt you’re a practiced Legilimens, so this will have to do.” Harper followed the two of them, stepping inside last before Harry shut the door. “I’m going to drink this now, and whatever questions you need to ask me, ask. And please forgive me if I cry because I’ve only mentioned it twice since it happened.” 

 

His eyebrows knit together, and she almost called it off then, knowing this ended for her in one way. She would be an incoherent mess as she sobbed about the past that was no longer in her control, and the world that hadn’t had enough good in it at the time. She drank the potion, and sunk into a chair, setting the now empty vial on the closest desk. 

 

“Did you kill Jakob?” She nodded. “How did he die? Why? Did he deserve it?” 

 

“He did.” She choked on her words as they were forced out of her mouth. “It’s not what you’re looking for, but he deserved to die. It was him or me.” 

 

“Why did you kill him? Was it self defense?” She could have cried as he offered her an out, as he gave the smallest glimmer of hope that it had been an accident. 

 

“It was self defense.” She mumbled. 

 

“Did he try to kill you? Did you just happen to run into him?

 

“Antonin Dolohov and your older brother confined Harry and myself during the war. They both carved me up with a knife before Dolohov left him alone with me one day.” His bottom lip quivered, and she wished that there was nothing more to the story. “Jakob told me I would make a good pet, and a good mudblood whore and he was going to tie me up and rape me until I bled.” 

 

It burned her throat to say those words, knowing that the boy in front of her had to know it was quoted word for word. “I didn’t want to tell you. It was a rash decision for me to have ever told you that I would.” 

 

“He was my brother.” He told her. “I wish you were lying about this. It would be easier if I could hate you, but now I know he deserved it.” Her head snapped up at the words. “I’m pissed, but not at you.” 

 

“I strangled him with the rope.” She offered the last answer to one of his many questions. “I’m so sorry.” 

 

He shook his head. “Yeah, I am too. I wish he hadn’t been a Death Eater in the first place, and I’m really sorry for what he put you through.” 

 

“That’s more than I could have expected.” He shrugged. “I thought this would take longer to be honest with you. I thought you were going to try to murder me at the first question. Anything else?” 

 

“Did he suffer long?” 

 

She sucked in a breath. “It take twenty seconds for an individual to lose consciousness from lack of oxygen. He passed out and didn’t feel the rest. But I imagine, and I felt sick once it was over, that those twenty seconds were the longest of his life.” 

 

“I hope he regretted what he put you through.” 

 

“I know I do.” 

 

Harry had stood quietly beside the door, not moving until Harper let the door shut behind him. “Did it help?” He asked her. 

 

“I don’t know yet. It just feels like I’ve just ripped my heart out.” She sobbed, barely noticing him pull her into a tight hug. “Merlin, I was just trying to survive and I just wish I could obliviate myself.” 

 

“I know.” He whispered into her hair, and her fingers dug into his shirt. “But you can’t do that.” He told her. “I wish it was easier.” 

 

“Somedays it is.” She hiccuped, letting him lead them out of the classroom. A few students were milling about in the hallway. “I wasn’t hopeful I would be able to let anyone touch me like that again. First there was Dolohov and then there was Bellatrix.”

 

“Listen, I doubt I’ll ever be Malfoy’s biggest fan. I think he’s arrogant, and cocky. And that he still thinks he’s better than the most of us, but not for the blood superiority anymore. He’s adopted the same habit of putting himself between you and danger, and I think that’s exactly what you need.” 

 

“You mean he’s adopted the same hero complex as you, and I hate it.” She grumbled. The walk to the Head Dorms was mostly spent in their own conversation, but Ron was leaned against the portrait she’d changed the password to. “Ron.” She stated, rolling her eyes when Harry stepped in between them. “I missed you at the hospital.” 

 

“Did you? I would have thought you would be focused on fucking Malfoy.” He spat the words at her, coming off of the wall and coming to tower over her. “It’s been five months and you never told me. Even when I came to you to apologize to you, Hermione.” 

 

“No, I didn’t want to tell you.” She replied, turning her head up to look him in the eyes. “I didn’t want to hurt you.” 

 

“That didn’t stop you from kissing him back though.” She held a hand out to Harry, motioning for him to stay out of it. His eyes left her face, looking over her shoulder. She looked over her right shoulder, seeing the familiar figure of Draco, with Blaise and Theo on either side of him. 

 

“Don’t pick a fight here.” She growled, wrapping her fingers around his wrist. “Ron, your fight isn’t with him. It’s with me. He didn’t force me to kiss him. It was my choice, and you can’t fault him for it.” 

 

“You know what might be the worst part? I know I was awful to you; I know why it hurt you so much to be pressured. But you sure as hell weren’t scared of being raped when it was Malfoy. If I’d known all I had to do to make you fall in love with me was bully you for years, I’d have spent them calling you a fucking mudblood.” 

 

Her eyes watered immediately, and she felt herself ripped backwards. Harry landed with his back to the stone wall, Hermione smashing into him as he locked his arms around her middle to keep her away from Ron. 

 

Malfoy looked from Ron to her slowly, and she shook her head. “Please don’t hurt him.” Harry shook his head at her words. 

 

“Not going to work this time, Hermione.” He snarled, and Malfoy was over Ron within seconds, swinging his right fist into his nose with an unforgettable crunch. Ron went down with a yell, clutching his nose that was already gushing blood. “Son of a bitch.” He grumbled, hauling Ron off the floor and slamming his back to the wall. 

 

“Draco, stop!” She was desperate for him to stop. “Just let him go and go inside the dorm. Please. God, stop!” It was only after he left Ron on the floor once more that he stepped away. 

 

“Scared of him yet, Hermione?” Ron asked of her, wiping blood from his mouth. “He never changed.” 

 

She felt her finger nails digging into her palms as she glared at him. “Don’t act the victim here, Ronald.” 

 

“Who was there for you during the war?” Ron pressed the ridiculous question out, watching Harry slowly let her out of his hold. 

 

“Who was there for me?” She echoed. “It was Harry. It was Harry that was with me after you ran away like a coward. It was him that told me it was going to be okay while I was tortured. When you left, Dolohov made me want to turn an avada on myself, and it was  _ not you who stopped me _ .” Tears rolled down her face while her hands shook. “And you want to know something else? It was Harry that washed blood off of my body once we escaped that hell hole. And it was Draco who has been here for me since we returned to Hogwarts.

 

“It was Harry who sat there while I took veritaserum today and told Harper how I murdered his brother after he tried to rape me. I love you, Ron. I’m sure I always will, but if I could hate you today, it would hurt a lot less. So, whenever you decide if I’m a mudblood, or the person you apologized to on their birthday, you let me know.” 

 

“Why the fuck did you put yourself through that?” Draco asked quietly. 

 

“It was important to me.” She muttered. “I knew you’d tell me it was a bad idea.” 

 

“It was a horrible idea.” Harry chimed. 

 

She ignored him. “I’d like to talk to you alone now.” Hermione told Draco, whose hand was already on the portrait. 

 

“Sounds awful.” He told her, but nodded anyways. 

 

“Would you please take him to the infirmary?” She asked Harry. 

 

“I’d prefer not to, but if it’s what you want then fine.” Harry grumbled. “Use protection.” 

 

“Fuck off, Potter.” Draco hissed and followed her through the portrait. 

* * *

  
  


“What you said to Weasley, it was mostly a lie. I haven’t been here for you since we started this term.” She just stared at him open mouthed, waiting for him to explain where that reasoning had come from. “I was a right arse to you. I yelled at you, and made you cry.” 

 

“You also saved my life. Multiple times now, but sometimes just knowing you were there helped. Like you gave me this sense of security. Or maybe it’s just because the last three days feel like three years, and it feels like I’ve known you for my entire life.” 

 

“It was stupid to go to Harper, you know. Taking a potion to make you tell the truth, what were you thinking?” 

 

“He wanted to hear it, and I needed to apologize to him.” 

 

“Apologize?” He echoed, knocking a lamp from the table when he swung his arm out in exasperation. “That bastard,” 

 

“That bastard had a family.” She cut him off, stepping forward to push his coat from his shoulders. “It’s too hot in here from the fire to be wearing this, Malfoy.” 

 

“He didn’t deserve an apology.” 

 

“You’ve been using that word an awful lot lately.” She stated. “Care to share?” 

 

“Weasley told me I didn’t deserve you during his stint at St. Mungo’s. I told him he was absolutely correct, but at least I was trying to deserve you.” She smiled at him as she laid the coat across the back of a chair and sat on the arm. 

 

“Would you have ever told me about your patronus?” He kept his eyes away from hers, and turned toward the couch. “I thought so.” She voiced behind him. “Are you ashamed of it, Draco?” He froze midstep. 

 

“You’re not fucking asking me that.” 

 

“I don’t mean that you’re ashamed of me; I just meant that you’re a Slytherin, and your patronus is a lion,” 

 

He cut her off, stalking towards her and grabbing her by her shoulders. Using his index finger he tilted her head up, glaring at her. “I am not ashamed of what the bloody patronus means. At least if the entire goddamn world knows, they already know that you’re simply fucking mine.” She swallowed. “I wouldn’t have told you, because it opens up all these little things I do for you.” 

 

“Like what, Draco?” 

 

“Fucks sake, if you keep saying my name, I’m going to go insane.” He rubbed his temples, and she leaned where his hand had left her skin. “Like, like the fact that you have nightmares every night. You always wake up an hour or two into the night and you just start screaming. And you keep screaming until you eventually cry yourself to sleep.” 

 

“How would you know?” He asked him, watching him squeeze his eyes shut at that question. “I’ve always casted a silencing charm.” 

 

“I know you, Hermione, better than you realize because I take down that charm every single night. I know you don’t want to suffer alone, but you don’t ask for help. And Merlin, if I don’t want to storm in there and hold you until you can breathe again.” 

 

“Draco.” She climbed to her feet and grabbed the tie around his neck, tugging him the few inches forward. His thumb brushed against the skin beneath her eyes, swiping the almost tears away. “I don’t want to talk about anything anymore.” She breathed, feeling his hand cusp that back of her neck as he leaned down to brush his lips against hers. 

 

“Best fucking thing I’ve heard all day.” He muttered. Hermione slid her palms over his chest and around his neck. She hadn’t noticed when his hand left her neck, until both of his hands were against the backs of her knees, pulling her up to wrap his legs around his waist. 

 

She pulled on his hair, relishing in the groan that split from his mouth against hers. “Your bedroom.” She whispered to him, and heard him kicking his door open moments after he’d carried her across the room. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry late Christmas. I'm not sure if I'm amazing or stupid for writing 15k words in a week, but here we are. I'm working on the next but to be honest with you, I get writer's block on this story about once a month. So hopefully see you next week. And if you have any suggestions as to what you'd like to see in this story pertaining to Dramione, or what happens with Malfoy next, let me know. And really, let me know what you think anyways. I'm gonna go work on my smut story and Valentines day entry and nap for the next three weeks. 
> 
>  
> 
> P.S please let me wake up to a ton of reviews, cause that would be cool. Thanks for all of the support the last chapter! I hope I didn't disappoint!


	20. Chapter Twenty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last few chapters have been incredibly heavy, I know. So with that being said, this story is rated M. There's a reason, the smut just didn't fit into my idea for the plot until now.

Draco kicked the door open with the toe of his boot, never letting up on his grip around her waist. “Draco.” She mumbled against his lips, her fingers digging into his hair. “Bed.” She told him between her uneven breathing. He nodded, too caught in the moment to even consider Hermione was too sore for anything other than resting. 

 

He sat at the foot of the bed with her straddling his waist. Hermione’s palms found their way to his chest, as she unbuttoned his shirt. “Granger.” She placed her index finger against his lips, successfully hushing him. 

 

“If you’re going to tell me why this is a bad idea, just keep it to yourself.” He rolled his eyes, yanking her forward by her hips. “We could have died in Australia, and while I don’t have to words to tell you anything, actions have always spoken louder, haven’t they?” He was dumbfounded as she slipped his shirt off of him. 

 

“We’re awful at talking out our feelings anyways.” He replied, curling his fingers under the hem of her jumper and tugging it over her head. She cradled his face in her hands, leaning down to kiss him harshly, nipping at his bottom lip. “Granger.” He groaned, as she swiveled her hips against his. 

 

He’d tried to hold himself back, repeatedly told himself that she was still sore and aching from the last several day, plus her stint in the hospital. But then she bit his ear lobe and all of his self control went directly out the window. She giggled as he threw her on to the bed, her back landing against the cool sheets. 

 

Draco unbuttoned her jeans, taking the time to let his eyes roam over her. The swell of creamy skin that was partially covered by her bra. Her flat stomach that he knew she hated now, now that they were covered in scars for the moment. He kept his eyes on hers as he knelt down to kiss the horrible scar at the bottom of her stomach. She blinked away the tears that had welled in her eyes as he tossed her jeans in the floor. 

 

“Come here.” She told him, curling her index finger, calling him to her. “You are wearing far too many clothes.” She told him as he leaned to kiss down her neck, his palm flat against the back of her neck. 

 

“We have all night, Granger. Don’t be so impatient.” He smirked at her cry of it being unfair. “Neither is having to wait so long for you, but I did it anyways.” His comment stopped her from replying, a heavy blush settling across her cheeks. 

 

His hand slid up her leg, sliding up the inner part of her thigh that had nearly driven the both to madness when he’d had to help her in the bath. She shuddered as his hand came to cup the mound of her sex. “Draco.” His name fell from her in a breathy moan as her head fell backwards. “Merlin.” 

 

He smirked, rubbing a finger between the sensitive folds, feeling the wetness pooling between her legs. “Hermione.” His voice was low, husky in her ear as she tried to keep her grip on reality, when honestly he kept sweeping her up into him. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve fucking wanted you? It nearly drove me mad.” 

 

“Sometime during sixth year?” She blurted out, her sentence breaking as he slid her knickers aside. “Oh, my God.” 

 

“Yeah.” He breathed. “That’s over two years, you know. I’m going to savor tonight, and enjoy you every single way possible.” 

 

“Please.” She told him, latching onto his hair once more. “For fucks sake, if you don’t take your pants off I will vanish them myself.” He chuckled at her outburst, breaking away from her to discard them among her clothes in the floor. A whimper slipped between her teeth as the absence of his fingers between her legs. 

 

“Can I?” He asked her as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her knickers. She nodded, arching up to reach back to unclasp her bar. “Fuck.” The expletive left his mouth as her bra hit the floor. She was grinning deliciously, as if she were daring him to take what he wanted. 

 

Draco moved over her body that was nestled amongst the sheets. Green looked far better on her than any other color, he thought in a fleeting moment. He hovered over her, one knee pressed in between her thighs as he bent down to drag his tongue up her stomach and between her breasts. “Draco.” She sighed his name, her eyes wide as his lips were smooth against her right breast. “God.” She choked as his hot mouth closed over her nipple, and she moaned louder than she had already when he sucked on the sensitive nub, rolling the left one between his fingers. 

 

Her nails raked down his back, ringing a groan from him. Hermione shifted her legs, bringing her toes to the band of his boxers and she pushed him down his legs. “It’s only fair.” She teased him. “Draco!” She shrieked, shivering as one finger pushed inside of her suddenly. 

 

“You’re so fucking tight.” He told her low in her ear, slowly pumping in and out of her. “Moan for me, Hermione.” Her back arched, her breasts shaking as she cried out his name. “You’re stunning.” 

 

She whimpered as Draco leaned down between her legs, his tongue sliding against the bundle of nerves. Her hands shot out, her fingers digging into the silk sheets, bunching them beneath her grip. “God, Draco.  _ There. _ ” His fingertips trailed against the insides of her thighs, and they were shaking. 

 

He didn’t stop until she was begging for more, for him to drive her over the edge. A broken mantra of please, please, please. He slid another finger into her dripping cunt, while he flicked her clit with his tongue. “Come for me, Hermione.” He pumped his fingers into her faster, and licked her clit without mercy, driving her to the brink and then pulling her back in a vicious cycle that made her want to sob for her release. “Now.” He demanded and she simply shattered beneath him. 

 

She screamed his name, felt it rip from her throat as her legs shook violently as she came down. Any student who was out after curfew would have heard her. Hermione whimpered, a low, gutteral sound, as Draco continued to flatten his tongue against her folds. “Draco, oh my God.” She gasped out, kissing him hard as soon as he presented an opening. 

 

“You taste goddamn delicious.” He growled, and rolled to where her naked body was draped over his. She moaned, wriggling her hips against his. “Oh, no you don’t.” He muttered, stilling her before she could slide herself down his erection. Hermione straddled his waist, sitting on her knees as she gripped the headboard beneath her hands. He leaned up on his forearms, closing his mouth around her nipple against, sucking on it under she grinded against him. He groaned. 

 

Between the feeling of her slit sliding against his cock, and her pushing her breasts in his face, he was sure he was going to lose any sanity he had left. “Draco, please now.” She begged him and she found herself flat on her back once more with Draco peering down at her in hesitation. “There’s nothing I want more.” She purred, taking his length in her hand, sliding her thumb across the tip. “Cast the charm, Draco.” 

 

He grabbed his wand and did as she asked before slamming the piece of wood down on the nightside table. Draco moved to the entrance of her aching core, and slowly slid into her, keeping a grip on her chin to make sure she kept eye contact as he did. She gasped his name, her fingers digging into his shoulders. 

 

“Hermione.” He groaned. He’d always thought she was beautiful, though he doubted she realized it since he hardly told her. But this had to be the best way to see her. Her gasping, and latching onto him while he thrusted into her dripping cunt. With his name falling from those pretty lips as she adjusted to his own size. 

 

Draco gripped her right ankle, bringing her legs to rest on his shoulders as he pushed into her once more, watching her eyes roll back at the erotic angle. “God.” 

 

She whimpered as his thumb came to her clit, rubbing it slow circles. “Look at me, Hermione. I want to watch you fall apart for me.” She moaned, her hands coming to grab her breasts, her slender fingers toying with her hardened nipples. 

 

“Yes.” She gasped, as he brought her to the edge again. 

 

“I won’t last as long the first time.” He admitted begrudgingly. 

 

“Neither can I. God,  _ please _ .” Hermione begged him and she was positive no one else could ever deliver her to her own ruin quite like he could. 

 

He fell to the bed beside her, watching in amusement as she wrapped the sheets around her body. “Don’t.” He told her, ripping the sheet away from her. “You’re incredibly beautiful.” She blushed, that blush winding down her neck. 

 

“You’re amazing.” She breathed, leaning down to brush her lips against his. “Can I stay with you tonight? Just for tonight, it it’s okay?” 

 

“Any night,” He told her. “But unless you want a repeat of this halfway through the night, you might get something to sleep in.” She grinned, rolling off the bed and making her way to his dresser. Draco slid on his boxers, watching her with a smirk as she rifled through his drawers. Hermione settled on a plain green jumper, tugging it over her head, her breasts bouncing with each movement. 

 

It was long on her, coming right above her knees. “How’s this? You mind?” 

 

“Looks better on you than it does on me.” He replied, and watched her slide her knickers on before climbing into the bed with him. 

* * *

  
  


She hadn’t given it any thought that as she was falling asleep while curled against him. It was the first night since she’d uncovered the dangerous combination of muggle and magical medicines, the only thing that could keep her asleep during the night, but also the only thing that kept her from lashing out in her sleep. 

 

Hermione hadn’t told him the last bit, but he figured it out rather quickly when suddenly she came off the bed in the middle of the night, screaming Dolohov’s name. It had sent him straight for his wand, thinking the impossible had happened, and a dead man had reanimated. 

 

No, the real problem was that she thought  _ he  _ was Dolohov. “Granger!” He yelled, rolling out of the bed to land on the floor, muttering a silencing spell before tossing his wand across the room as she tried to pry it from his hands. “Fuck.” He muttered, feeling her fist connect with his jaw. 

 

“You son of a bitch.” She was screaming, and while he would deny it to anyone but her, it broke his heart to hear her screaming. This was how she felt about the vile man she’d nearly handed over to aurors. 

 

He rounded the bed, coming behind her and wrapping his arms right around her, locking her arms down and pinning her legs down with his own. “Hermione.” He yelled. “I need you to wake up. It’s me, Draco. I’m not going to hurt you.” Talking to her didn’t help, she was still asleep. “Fuck, I have to do this, so don’t punch me again.” 

 

He smacked her, and she stilled against him finally. “Malfoy?” 

 

“Thank Salazar.” He whispered, leaning his head to her shoulder. 

 

“I attacked you.” It wasn’t a question, but he nodded anyways. “I am so sorry.” He shook his head. 

 

“It’s fine, you were terrified. You thought you were fighting for your life.” She sobbed quietly against him, her hands coming up to grasp his forearms. “He’s dead, Hermione. He’s never going to hurt you again. There is no one who is going to hurt you again.” 

 

“I thought I could get past this.” 

 

“You can, you will.” He whispered. “It can’t happen overnight. Do you think us having,” He trailed off. “Did that make it worse for you?” 

 

“What?” She asked loudly, craning her head back to look at him. “No, Draco, never. We’re amazing together. I just, well, you must know I tend to relive things in my nightmares.” He nodded. “The medications I take, they keep from doing this shit in my sleep. I did it to Harry once, nearly killed him.” 

 

“You did try to grab my wand, but I tossed it across the room. It’s okay.” He told her again. She turned into him, crying quietly while he rubbed her spine. 

 

“I could have killed you.” 

 

“I should have realized you couldn’t sleep with your potions, and those muggle pills, as you call them.” 

 

“Oh, don’t try to say this is your fault.” She told him. “I want to return to classes tomorrow.” She told him then. “And I understand if you don’t, but I need the distraction more than anything right now.” 

 

“I’ll be there, you know that.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “I’m also great for distractions.” 

 

“Not in the middle of the school day, you aren’t.” He laughed at that. 

 

“There are broom closets.” He commented. “Listen, go get what you need, okay? And then we can go back to sleep.” 

 

She nodded. “Alright. If you’re sure. I can sleep in my room, if you prefer.” He glared at her. “Okay, it was just an offer, you know.” 

 

She came back with a vial, and an orange bottle. She’d also changed into his quidditch jersey while she was gone, with the explanation that it was too hot in the room for a jumper. 

* * *

  
  


On the morning of their first day back to classes, she woke tangled in the dark green sheet of his bed. Her legs were tangled with his. “Morning.” She mumbled, crawling to lean over his chest. “What would I do without you?” She asked him, referring to her episode the night before. He smirked, his hand settling on the small of her back. 

 

“To put it bluntly, I have no fucking clue. I’m sure you’d run around playing hero all the time. Oh, wait, you already do.” She grinned at him. “Were you able to sleep after you woke up?” 

 

“Unsurprisingly, no. “ He nodded at that. “Oh, my god. Did I do that to you?” She leaned forward, taking a closer look at the winding scratch down his neck. “Draco,” 

 

“It’s quite alright, Granger. It was in the middle of the nightmare. You weren’t awake.” 

 

“I attacked you.” She looked down, and he reached down to grab her hand. 

 

“You thought I was Dolohov. If it had been the other way around, I would have kicked your ass too.” His voice was soft as he tugged her forward to lay across his chest. “I silenced the room, just in case anyone happened to be in the hallways.” 

 

“Thank you.” He plucked the vial from her fingers, setting it back on night stand. “McGonagall thinks it’s too early to return to classes.” 

 

“Yeah.” He sighed. “The old bat is probably right, but you’re far too stubborn to listen to her of course.” 

 

“I can go to my classes. It’s seeing everyone else. They’re all going to give me this look, you know? The entirety of my Defense Against the Dark Arts class was in the Great Hall when I had to explain Dolohov and Harry, and then with everything that’s happened between us. There are no secrets.” 

 

“Don’t be so naive, Granger. You still have plenty of secrets.” She swatted his bare chest, glaring at him. “What they think doesn’t matter. You suffered a serious trauma during the war, one that dove straight back into when it meant protecting your family. You don’t want their pity? Tell them that. Otherwise, that’s what you’re going to get if you hide.” 

 

“I wouldn’t mind hiding in here with you for a bit longer.” 

 

“You can’t feel guilty Goyle died that day, Granger.” She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes and she ducked her head down. “It was a bad situation, but you didn’t have a choice.” 

 

“I should have petrified him. I’ve run this through my head so many times. There are a ton of things I could have done instead of sacrificing myself like some kind of martyr. Except it doesn't matter now, because he’s already dead.” 

 

“Greg was a pawn for Dolohov and my father. He knew of their plans, and he never said a word to the ministry. He knew when your parents were taken hostage.” 

 

“These are reasons for me to break his nose, Malfoy, not bloody wish he were dead.” 

 

“Well, as the other person who was there, I’m glad it was him.” She fell silent against him. “He was a criminal who was let out of time in Azkaban because he was underage. He had a chance to go down the right road, but he didn’t, and you can’t beat yourself up for a choice that was never yours in the first place.”

 

She sighed, raking her fingers through her hair. “I hate when you’re right, you know?” He smiled at that. “Also, beyond that, I’m not looking forward to seeing Ron today either.” 

 

His eyes narrowed. “If that prat says another thing like he did yesterday, he will find himself in the infirmary permanently.” 

 

“Don’t, Draco. It wasn’t right of him, at all. But I know he was hurt.” 

 

“That doesn’t mean that I’m going to sit around while he hurts you.” He drawled, edging the hem of her shirt up. “My first priority is you, Granger.”

 

She smiled. “I know that the Ministry isn’t about to let us out of their sight for a while, but,”

 

“I know. We will find him before he finds us.” She nodded. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think (especially of the smut)! I never realized how fast I could type before the last week.


	21. Chapter Twenty One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! I had a really awful week last week, and couldn't write. This is a shorter chapter, but I hope you like it anyways!

Hermione skipped breakfast altogether when Malfoy offered to grab food from the kitchens and meet her in the library. She wasn’t sure she was ready for another run in with Ron, who was still hurting. Ginny would have picked up on the fact she hadn’t spent the previous night alone immediately. 

 

She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to make of Harry’s break up with the youngest Weasley. She hadn’t been observant in anything but her own love life, or the lack thereof since the term started. 

 

These were all reasons that she told herself were real, but she knew they weren’t. 

 

Thing is, all of their classmates had questions. Whether they were about Lucius Malfoy, or Antonin Dolohov, she didn’t have a clue. Malfoy mentioned he had overheard some fifth years in Hufflepuff discussing her relationship with an arrogant Slytherin, and she smirked. 

 

She’d selected the spot, hidden among the Restricted Section where they wouldn’t be found. “Did you see Ron?” She asked him, leaning across his lap to steal a piece of toast from the plate. He took the opportunity to slide his palm beneath her shirt, skimming against the bare skin of her back. “Malfoy.” She barked. 

 

He sighed, dropping his hand. “Yes, I saw Weasley.” She waited for him to continue, crossing her legs beneath her. “He’s calmed down, I’d say.” 

 

“You’re serious?” 

 

“He asked me if you were alright, and he apologized to me for calling you such a foul name.” Draco told her quietly. He’d leaned his head against the book shelves. “He regrets it, and I know you’ll forgive him, but maybe you should let him suffer a while longer.”

 

She rolled her eyes. “Of course you would say that.” 

 

“What the hell do you mean? I’m not angry because of whatever reason you think I’ve hated him for. He’s an arse to you, and he made you cry. So yeah, I’m pissed.” Hermione crawled towards him with a soft smile. She came to sit between his legs, where they were stretched across the carpet. 

 

“I know you’re angry.” She told him. “And if you hadn’t punched him, I would have.” He smirked at her words, grabbing her hand and bringing it up to his lips. “I’m glad he’s remorseful. If he wasn’t, we wouldn’t move past this.” 

 

“Do you regret it?” He asked her suddenly, pulling her forward into his lap. 

 

“Regret what?” Hermione tilted her head to the side, crossing her legs. 

 

“Kissing me back. It’s the reason your friendship with that prat is in danger, isn’t it? Do you regret it?” He hesitated as he said the words, as if her answer might hurt him, and it only made her angry. 

 

“You’re not asking me that.” She replied, grabbing his tie. “You don’t get to ask me if I regret anything with you, Draco. Do you know why? It’s because I’d do it all over again, no matter how much it hurt to get here.” He swallowed. “Why are you asking? Do you regret it? Did last night change something for you? Was it not enough?” 

 

“Enough.” He cut her off. “Stop going off on a ridiculous tirade when you know I don’t feel that way.” She crossed her arms across her chest. “I’m asking because I nearly broke your friend’s nose. Not to mention, I’m not against killing anyone who hurts you.” She protested, only for him to cover her mouth. “And you knowing that I’m an arse, and what I did during that war, and what I am willing to do after, it makes me wonder how you can stand to look at me at all.” 

 

“Don’t ask me if I regret it again.” She told him, wrapping his tie around her knuckles. “And don’t pull away either because let’s face it, we’re better together.” 

 

He glanced down at her iron grip on his tie, smirking to himself before his arms came around her waist. A squeak left her as she found her plate in the floor pushed aside as he laid her on the ground. “We’re better together.” He repeated, watching her eyes go wide. “I believe that.” 

 

“If you think for a second I’m going to shag you in the middle of the restricted section, you’d better,” she was cut off by his lips pressing to hers. “Malfoy.” She gasped, feeling him bite down on her lower lip, slipping his hands beneath her white button up. 

 

“I think you need to let go. You’re far too wound up, Granger.” His voice was low as he moved his lips to her ear, hot breath fanning across her earlobe. She shuddered against him, her fingers fumbling to undo his tie. “There’s time before Potions.” He whispered to her, his right hand sliding up the outside of her leg. 

 

“This is a  _ library _ .” She hissed into the silence, throwing his tie into the floor beside them. 

 

“Yeah, and I’ve always wanted to fuck you in the library. All the fucking time I spent in here just because you were here.” 

 

“I didn’t know that.” 

 

“Disillusionment charm, Granger.” He mumbled, unbuttoning her shirt and watching in awe as she shrugged the thin oxford off.. “I never got tired of seeing you, even though I felt like a complete creep.” He let out a throaty groan as her palm slid into his trousers, flicking the button open and pulling his zipper down. 

 

“Were you thinking of me like this the entire time you were here?” She teased him, enthralled as his eyes darkened. 

 

“Sometimes.” He replied, lowering his mouth to to her throat. “Sometimes all I could imagine was bending you over the goddamn table. Other times all I could think was how much I regretted taking the Dark Mark.” She stared at him, telling herself that she wouldn’t grow teary eyed. 

 

“I wish I’d known sooner.” She whispered as he spread her legs apart, moving between them. “I would have believed you.” 

 

“I know you would have.” He replied, slipping her pretty knickers down her legs and hiding them in his robe pocket with a smirk. “Even if I had told you the truth, it was dangerous. I couldn’t have put a secret like that on you.” 

 

He entered her slowly, slower than he had the night before and his name slipped out as a whimper. She clawed at his back, clinging to him as he put her through the most exquisite kind of torture. “Draco.” 

 

“Quiet, Hermione, unless you want to be caught.” He nipped at the shell of her ear, bringing her knee up, pressing farther into her. She choked on her moan. 

 

“Cast,” she dissolved into a mess as the pad of his thumb brushed against her clit. “A Silencing Charm, you prick.” 

 

“More fun seeing you struggle to stay quiet, love.” She moved her hips against him. “Because I know you’re dying to cry out, to tell me how good you feel when I’m buried inside of you.” 

 

“It’s amazing.” She murmured, pulling him down and sucking on the spot where she’d already left a mark on his neck. She welcomed the distraction from what was waiting for them when they left this space, stepping into reality once more. 

 

“So wet for me.” Draco’s voice made her burn hotter, cursing as he drove into her. “So goddamn tight, and it drives me crazy.” 

 

She was a mess beneath him, digging her fingers into his hair while he took her on the floor of the library of Hogwarts. She’d never be able to study again without imagining the way he felt inside of her, making her feel impossibly full. 

 

Draco yanked the cups of her bra down, exposing her breasts, and her hardened, pink tips. He bent his head, taking one into his mouth while his hair fell in his face. “Merlin.” She hissed, struggling to keep her eyes open to take in the erotic sight. 

 

“I want you to come for me, Hermione.” He told her. “I want you to remember who’s doing this to you, who takes you right over the edge.” 

 

She gasped as his thumb found her clit once more, his eyes a dark gray while he rubbed in low circles. “Draco, please.” She found herself whimpering, begging for him to let her go. “God, let me.” 

 

There was no way to tell if it was the way he was thrusting into her, or the way he rubbed the bundle of nerves in just the right way that made her break apart. She closed her eyes as he pulled out of her, bending to kiss her sweaty forehead. “You’re amazing.” She muttered as she redid the buttons on her shirt. 

 

“And you’re the best thing that ever happened to me.” He was wearing a lopsided grin as he said the words. Her cheeks were flushed as he pulled her from the ground. “Shit,” she tilted her head as he cursed, raking his fingers through his hair. 

 

“What’s wrong?” She asked him, running her fingers over his bicep, and he flinched as she touched the mark he tried to hide. 

 

“I forgot the charm.” He mumbled, his cheeks tinging pink along with the tips of his ears. 

 

“Oh, no.” She gasped, watching the horror go across his face. 

 

“There must be something Madame Pomfrey can give you so you can’t get pregnant.” He spoke quickly, stumbling over his own words. He was not at all the same, collected man who turned her mind into a mess with his words. 

 

“No, Draco, I don’t think there’s anything she can do. You’ll be a great father.” She could only hold her straight face for three seconds as he stared at her, his jaw slack and his eyes wide. Hermione held her stomach as she burst into laughter. 

 

“You’re kidding. This is not a joke!” 

 

She wiped away the tear where her eyes had watered from laughing so hard. “I’ve been on the potion since I’ve become sexually active, Draco. Since the end of fifth year.” 

 

“Then Theo was the,” 

 

She cut him off, holding her hand up. “Do not finish that sentence as I really don’t think you want to hear the words out loud.” 

 

“That bastard.” He grumbled. “This wasn’t funny, Granger.” 

 

“I thought it was. You should have seen your face.” 

 

“What else would you expect? For me to drop down on one knee and propose so you wouldn’t have to deliver my bastard child?” She was still smirking as he growled the words at her. 

 

“Well, you are sort of a traditionalist.” 

  
  


Draco didn’t give her knickers back after they left the library. Nor did he allow her to clean the mess beneath her skirt with a wave of her wand and she wanted to kill him. 

 

But he’d done what he set out to do, which was to distract her from what she was hiding from. It would have been easy to tell Headmistress McGonagall she needed a few days to process what had happened in Australia, or she could have said she was sore. But they were lies. The only way she could process the horrific ordeal they’d been through was to push forward. She was sore, but after the twelve hours she’d had, she wasn’t thinking of her aching muscles. 

 

Draco held her hand, his fingers slipping through hers in an effort to squelch her nerves. She looked up to him as they approached Potions, and they entered the room together. 

 

Ron’s eyes hurt her the most. He looked as if he weren’t surprised they had finally come together. She knew that was okay. Ron had already noticed the two of them had this sort of magnetic pull to the other when it came down to it. 

 

Draco had been right; her friend wasn’t angry at all anymore. Under his eyes were dark, as if he’d spent the entire night awake while she had slept mostly peacefully with Draco at her side. 

 

He wasn’t angry, but he was inexplicably hurt. She would have known the look of a heart broken mess. 

 

Hermione let go of Draco’s hand, whispering to him. “I’m going to sit with him today.” He nodded, taking his own seat beside Theo. 

 

Hermione watched him tear his eyes away as she walked towards him, felt their classmates turn their heads to see the greatest row this side of the century. But that’s not what Ron did. He pulled a chair out for her. “Do you mind if I sit here today?” She asked him. 

 

“You can sit here everyday if you might forgive me.” He replied, and his throat was hoarse. It broke something inside of her as she slumped into her seat, the cold chair meeting the back of her thighs. 

 

“I’m getting rather good at that.” She told him, opening her textbook as Professor Slughorn revealed their next assignment. 

 

“I know we usually save this for Valentine’s Day, but I think it would be a good way to end the month.” She blanched in her seat, watching as her professor’s eyes went from Draco to herself. Ron tensed beside her, ultimately relaxing after muttering to himself. “Our next potion assignment will take place at the end of the week. We will be brewing Amortentia. Who you are seated next to will be your partner for the lesson.” 

 

“Mione,” Ron whispered to her. “If you didn’t have bad luck, you would have no luck at all.” She laughed, tried to anyways, but her voice broke in her throat. 

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are always the best forms of encouragement. And if you'd like to follow along for announcements and my random musings I'm on tumblr at mrsren96.


	22. Chapter Twenty-Two

She was trying to be social, and she was failing miserably. Their classmates were more like vultures as they scavenged for information. The news of the suffering she’d undergone at the hands of Death Eaters, and the fact that Harry had been there the entire time had burned through the hallways. If she wasn’t being asked about that, she was asked when had her secret relationship with Malfoy began. 

 

Lavender Brown was quick to say Hermione might as well have cheated on Ron, since he’d kissed her in the Chamber of Secrets moments later. Hermione remained stoic throughout her tirades in the corridors, her hand curled into a tight fist at her side. 

 

And if it wasn’t those two things, it was Lucius Malfoy. Why did the man want to peel the skin from her bones? She’d rolled her eyes at the question, answering with “I’m not sure. I guess you’d have to ask him.” The girl had paled at her response, quickly ducking her head down. 

 

Of course she knew why. The man knew his son, knew his ticks, his feelings even when he hadn’t voiced them outloud yet. It was in the fall of Voldemort’s side, the side Draco had left, that Lucius stormed towards her, wand extended. Before Ron had the chance to react, Draco had ripped her out of the way, taking a curse meant for her. 

 

After the last few days, she knew the curse had scarred his chest, a thin slice between his pectorals. It was with Ron backing her, and Draco guarding her, that Lucius spit he would kill her. It would be slow, so his son could see what happened when you became a traitor. 

 

The entire fiasco hadn’t left the memories of those who had been there, and it suddenly fell into place. Then the whispers started. They were both Heads. Had Hermione had some say in him making it into the exclusive spot, despite his past? Were they fucking in their private dorm every chance they got? 

 

Hermione’s cheeks flushed a deep crimson each time the point was brought up while Draco smirked beside her. It wasn’t true, but he was fine with letting the world think it was. It had only been the two times, but only because she’d spend all of her time with her friends. 

 

Ginny and Harry were coping with their breakup differently. Harry was so calm it scared Hermione, and Ginny was keeping up her appearance in public, but she was wrecked behind closed doors. The two of them maintained that it was for the best, even if it stung now. 

 

It was Draco who pointed out that if they had already made up their minds that it was over, it was better to end it then. A clean break, he told her. 

 

“Nothing about this is clean, Malfoy. Ginny has been crying herself to sleep in my dorm for the last three nights” Hermione whispered at him violently, poking him in the chest. 

 

Right on cue, she heard a broken sob from the other side of the door. “What the hell do you want me to do about it? I’m not in the business of making everyone happy.” 

  
“Yeah?” Her eyebrow arched as she folded her arms across her chest. “Well, it would make me happy if you’d help me figure out what the fuck I’m supposed to do.” 

 

“That’s a low blow and you know it.” He growled at her, his palm landing flat against the wall above her head. Hermione’s back met the wall, as she stared up at him. “I’m not helping Weaslette.” 

 

“Her name is Ginny, you insufferable twat.” 

 

He smirked at her insult, laughing to himself. “But if it means this much to you, I’ll talk to Potter.” Her eyes widened. 

 

“There’s no way Harry will want your advice.” 

 

“Good, because I'm going to tell him to be an arse for six years and then he will ignore me.” She glared at him, stomping on his foot. “Fuck,” he cursed. “That was a joke, Granger. He’s not going to want to talk about his feelings.” 

 

“Lucky you then, because I have to find Pansy and cast a silencing charm to get through this.” 

 

“I think you’re exaggerating.” Draco told her. “She’s going to be fine. Maybe the three of you should go out this weekend. You can find something to do in Hogsmeade, take her mind off of things.” 

 

“Will you do the same for Harry?” She asked him, peeking up through her eyelashes. 

 

“Not a fucking chance of that. Then Weasley will be there, and I will not be responsible for my actions.” She bit her pouty bottom lip and he just groaned. “It’s not a good idea, Hermione. We’re not the best of friends here.” 

 

“Blaise and Theo would go with you.” He threw her a doubtful look. “Okay, they’ll come if I ask them.” 

 

“That sounds like the worst idea you’ve ever come up with, and you broke into Gringotts.” 

 

“Which was successful, mind you.” 

 

“It was completely insane.” Draco cut her off. “I could talk to Potter. I’d do it if gave you any piece of mind. Except Weasley is determined to worm his way back into his good graces. Potter is never alone.” 

 

“I expected a better excuse from you. Are you telling me that you’re unable to get someone alone? Really, Malfoy?” Hermione cocked her head to the side, waving her wand at the room behind her. 

 

“And you’re telling me to mend the Chosen One’s broken heart? Really, Granger?” He mocked her. 

 

Her eyes narrowed. “You enjoyed the first night we came back to Hogwarts, right? And in the library? And every night I’ve slept in your room since?” Draco just sighed to himself. “Draco.” 

 

“Fine, fine.” He waved her off, spitting the words out. “If Weasley says one thing out of line, I’ll put him in the hospital wing.” 

 

She paused. “You really need to stop doing that to Ron. 

 

He chuckled. “Yeah, well as soon as he stops acting like a twat I’ll think about it.” Draco leaned down to brush his lips against hers. “I’ll go find the Savior, and see if he’s going to Hogsmeade. Keep an ear out for any screaming.” 

 

She smiled. “I’m sure we’ll see you. If not, I’ll just see you back here.” Hermione smiled, watching him exit the portrait and squared her shoulders to enter her own room. 

* * *

  
  


Hogsmeade was loud, filled with students of Hogwarts planning for Halloween. Hermione had difficulty grasping how much time had passed since her birthday, since the end was put in motion. She’d tried to push her thoughts away for the night, but they came back as she watched Ginny move across the room of the Three Broomsticks to grab drinks for the last round of the night. They would be on the path back to Hogwarts in under half an hour. 

 

Something was coming. It made her hair stand on end, as she looked out the window over her shoulder for the third time. Pansy tapped on the table, jerking her attention back to her. “Let it out.” The black haired witch told her. 

 

Hermione sighed. “It bothers me how it’s not even over. Lucius isn’t dead, and we’re just waiting. Again.” 

 

“What does Draco think?” She asked Hermione, splaying her fingers across the wood table, the light reflecting off her ring. “If you’re taking it this hard, then I know he must be worse.” 

 

“He hasn’t talked to me about it. He’s more concerned about how I feel. About Dolohov, and about apologizing to me for whats happened.” 

 

“Yeah,” Pansy breathed the word. “He mentioned that. Even if he’d been under the Imperius Curse, it would have wrecked him. He had to choose to hurt you, and I think he’s scared to be anywhere near you.” 

 

Ginny came back with a tray of drinks, nearly slamming them down on the table. “Whoa, what’s wrong?” Hermione asked her, hand snapping out to steady the glass that was tipping. 

 

“Cormac McLaggen is an arse.” She bit out, tying her red hair into a ponytail. 

 

“Okay,” Pansy dragged the word out, her eyes flicking to Hermione’s. “Why don’t you tell us what he said?” 

 

“He didn’t say a goddamn thing at first. He just slapped my arse and when I told him to sod off, he asked me if I would find a Death Eater boyfriend like Hermione.” 

 

Hermione choked on her butterbeer, and Pansy slammed an open palm down on her back. “He said that to you?” Pansy was silent as Hermione’s cheeks grew red. “What a jerk.” 

 

“I hexed him of course, and told him to say that to your face.” Ginny spoke over the loud voices in the room. “Did you know that Harry is here? With Malfoy and Ron? They haven’t killed each other yet.” 

 

Both girls took it as a good sign when her bottom lip didn’t tremble as she spoke Harry’s name. “Well, the night is still young.” Pansy finally breaks the silence. “The three of them, they can’t last long.” 

 

“Theo and Blaise are with them.” Ginny added as an afterthought. 

 

“I asked Draco to talk to Harry. I also asked Theo and Blaise to go. I don’t trust Draco to not fight with Ron. I had no idea they would be here though.” Hermione fessed up to her plan, watching as two pairs of eyes narrowed at her. “What? Draco didn’t want to talk to you and make you feel better.” 

 

Ginny snickered. “And he wanted to help Harry?” 

 

“I cornered him.” Hermione said quietly. “He didn’t have much of a choice.” 

 

“Tell us about him, Hermione. You’ve been so quiet all week.” Ginny jumped from the topic of her ex boyfriend and the other girl could only groan. 

 

Hermione buried her face in her hands. “I’m trying to think of ways to get out of tomorrow’s lesson in Potions.” She finally said. “Earlier this week, before we started brewing it, I sat beside Ron in an attempt to fix things. We’d had a horrible row. I just wanted to try, and Professor Slughorn then tells us we are brewing Amortentia and whoever we are sitting with is our partner.” 

 

“That’s going to go over well.” Pansy said dryly, sipping her drink. “How did he take that news?” 

 

“Ron made a joke, but I know he’s going to end up hurt anyways. He already knows that it won’t be him who I smell.” 

 

“Fuck you.” She heard, rather than saw Ron yell the words and she pushed her chair backwards. Hermione took one look at her friends, who had already stood at his voice. 

 

Hermione ran down the side of the bar, nearly slipping as she rounded the corner. 

 

Draco was standing on the opposite end of the table, his chair tipped over. His hair was dripping with what she guessed was firewhiskey that had been thrown in his face. “Hey, hey, stop!” Hermione yelled, grabbing his hands before he could stalk towards Ron. “What the hell is going on here?” 

 

“I told you this was a horrible idea.” He ground the words out at her. “He’s still the same arsehole he’s always been, at least to me.” Draco was furious as she flattened her hands on his chest, shaking her head. 

 

“It was actually going rather well.” Theo told her, nodding to Pansy and Ginny over her shoulder. “Potter and I made up over the fact that I decked him. I gave Weasley and Malfoy shit for taking your virginity.” 

 

“For Merlin’s sake, Theo, just keep your mouth shut.” Hermione groaned. 

 

“Ron had too much to drink.” Harry told her quietly, holding his arm out in front of Ron on the likely chance he dove forward. “And he deserves to be punched if you ask me, but not like the last time.” He directed the last bit of his sentence towards Draco. 

 

“Not a fucking chance, Potter. There is no holding back when it comes to her.” Draco growled, picking Hermione up by her waist and setting her to the side. 

 

“Draco, I’ll petrify you if you take one more step.” She hissed at him, but she didn’t reach for her wand as he inched towards Ron. “I don’t care who it is, but someone needs to tell me what the hell is going on.” 

 

“Weasley asked how it was having sex with you, and then said a lot of things I’d really rather not repeat.” Theo told her, his voice hushed and her heart thudded in her chest. She knew that if he wouldn’t repeat it, it was nothing she wanted to hear. 

 

“Draco, don’t do this please. Just come back with me to our dorm. Ron is hurt and he’s lashing out at you every chance he gets.” She whispered to him. Draco looked down on her, his jaw tight. “Let it go.” She took his hand in her own. “Ron, you can’t make him angry because you’re a glutton for punishment.” 

 

“I’ll do whatever I bloody please.” He snapped at her. “Malfoy’s angry because I called you a Death Eater whore.” 

 

She sucked in a breath. “You don’t mean that, and you know it.” Hermione told him, stepping in front of Draco. “You can’t blame him for anything. You can’t blame him for my choices.” 

 

“I will. Because when I smell that goddamned potion tomorrow, I’ll still smell you because I fell in love with you.” Draco was silent behind her, his fingers brushing against her spine softly. “You’ll smell him, and he will smell you. And then what? The two of you just spend your nights together? I was never allowed to touch you.” 

 

“I wasn’t ready.” She answered the unspoken question softly. “I felt pressured, forced, and I barely escaped being raped. It was too raw.” Hermione reached out for his shoulder, to squeeze it, or to give some sort of reassurance. “If calling me a whore is what makes you feel better, than I’m not going to argue with you. But we can move past this, or we can stay like this. Always fighting.” 

 

“Then choose one of us.” Ron said, his voice hard. “Me or Malfoy. We’ve been friends since we were eleven years old, Hermione.” 

 

“She’s not going to choose between us, Weasley. You’re ridiculous for telling her to make a choice. You’re asking her which limb she wants to cut off.” Draco’s voice was level, calm for the moment, but she could hear the anger. 

 

“You’re not so special that she would choose you anyways.” Ron spat, his words slurring together. “You’re afraid.” 

 

Hermione clicked her tongue. “Ronald, if you honestly believe you can force my hand, and make me choose you, you are sorely mistaken.” The cruel smile was wiped from his face. “You are my oldest friend. I love you dearly, but you continue to hurt me repeatedly. I can be called Mudblood. I can be called a Death Eater’s whore. It doesn’t bother me. When you are sober tomorrow, we can talk if you like.”

 

“The next time you tell her sorry, you’d better mean those words.” Draco growled at Ron, reaching into his pockets to leave the money on the table. 

 

“I can,” Harry was cut off by Draco. 

 

“I told you it was on me, Potter.” He moved to sling his arm Hermione’s waist. “To be clear though, this is the last time I do anything for you because Granger asked me to.” 

 

“I can agree with that.” Harry chuckled to himself. “It really was a horrible idea, Mione.” She shrugged, looking to see if Ginny was okay. Her friend was leaning into Pansy. 

 

“Goodnight,” She said softly. Hermione looked at Ron again. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow if you want to try and fix this.” He nodded slowly, glaring at the man holding onto her. 

* * *

  
  


She hadn’t spoken since they had left Hogsmeade, and until they were a half hour into patrols, Draco hadn’t pushed her. “I’m not sorry for what I would have done to him.” He told her roughly, watching her fidget with her curls.

 

“I’m aware of that.” Hermione’s voice was barely audible. “If Theo wouldn’t repeat what he said about me, I know it was horrible.” He led her up the stairs of the Astronomy Tower. “I can check the tower by myself.” She murmured, moving ahead of him, only to have her hand grabbed. 

 

“I’m not afraid to go up there.” Draco whispered to her in the silence. 

 

“I’m not afraid to talk about Dolohov, or Bellatrix, but it doesn’t mean I like to. Just because you can confront your demons doesn’t mean you need to. Wait here, please?” He nodded silently as she rushed up the stairs. She took a look over the Tower, walking quickly past any hiding spots a student could be pressed against their boyfriend. 

 

Draco was leaning against the railing, his arms crossed and his eyes closed as she gently padded down the steel steps. “Draco, it’s, what are you doing?” He had grabbed her by her wrists, twisting them to pin her to the railing. “We’re on a patrol.” 

 

“Yeah.” he readily agreed. “I just really needed to kiss you after what you just did.” Her response was muffled as his lips came down on hers, his tongue tracing her bottom lip. Hermione’s hands were flat on his forearms, her fingers digging into the skin there to steady herself. 

 

Her knees nearly buckled beneath her as his nails scraped her scalp while he wound strands of her hair around his fingers. “Draco.” she whimpered against his lips as his open palm was flat on her bare thigh. She knew she should have changed from her uniform for patrols. “Let me guess, you imagined shagging me here too?” Her words were light, teasing and her heart rattled against her rib cage as he smiled at her. 

 

He leaned his forehead against her own. “No, not really. Just have some bad memories here, and you’re the best way to make better ones.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to tell you, I'm extremely sorry if this is garbage compared to my former chapters. I did try, like really fucking hard. I got a comment that was sort of mean, even though they may have had the best intentions. It made me question whether I should be writing at all. The thought of not finishing something had never crossed my mind until they weren't sure it was worth it. I apologize for my shitty, low self esteem and lack of confidence. 
> 
> I know you're not here for my pity party, I just wanted to explain. I hope you enjoy this chapter anyways, I know that I did, despite there being no action with Lucius. If you have any thoughts, compliment or criticism, please let me know.


	23. Chapter Twenty-Three

Despite having told herself that there wasn’t a chance in hell Ron would seek her out the next morning, she found that she was wrong. 

 

Draco shook her shoulder, whispering that she needed to get out of bed. “Stop it, Malfoy. I’m sleeping.” 

 

He sighed. “Weasley is in our common room, would you rather I send him packing to Gryffindor Tower?” 

 

Her eyes shot open. “You’re kidding.” Draco shook his head, reaching over to pull the strap of her tank top back into place. 

 

“No, he’s here. I told him it was too early, but he says he couldn’t sleep.” She nodded slowly, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. “I’m going back to sleep. Try not to scream at each other too much.” 

 

“If we start screaming, we are clearly not able to have this conversation yet.” Hermione grabbed his jumper from the floor, slipping her arms through the sleeves. She grabbed her pair of shorts from the floor. 

 

“You look better in just the shirt.” He told her, smirking. 

 

“I’m sure you think so, Malfoy.” Hermione replied, letting the bedroom door shut quietly behind her. 

 

Ron sat on the couch, his legs crossed as he looked at the crackling fire. From where she was, she could see him in his vulnerability, a sight that would vanish when he realized she was standing feet away. He hadn’t slept, she knew it by the bags under his eyes that hadn’t been there the night before. 

 

The couch dipped beneath her as she took a seat at the end of, tucking her feet beneath her. “I’m surprised you’re here.” Her voice was soft. Her stomach clenched as she waited for him to turn to face her, waited for what he had to say. 

 

“When Bellatrix tortured you, I begged her to take me instead.” Ron spoke quietly, not turning to face her. “I still regret that day every time I think about you. When the Snatchers caught us, I blamed myself, but you never did.” 

 

“Anyone could have said his name.” 

 

“I never told you I was sorry for the awful things I said to you after the war, or for the ways I used your fears against you. I used Lavender to hurt you, and I never apologized.” 

 

“Ron..” She trailed off, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “I never apologized to you. For lying to you about Draco, or for never telling you about Dolohov. I lied to you, and you have every right to be angry with me.” 

 

“I’m not.” He forced the words out. Ron turned on the couch, stretching his legs out. “I’m angry in general.” 

 

“Did Harry tell you that?” Hermione asked him, the corners of her lips tipping into a smile as he nodded. 

 

“I didn’t mean what I said about you, or about him. As much as I loathe him, Malfoy has a certain knack for rescuing you. Or for putting himself between you and danger.” Ron fell silent. “I don’t think there’s anything you can do to fix this though.”

 

“Ron,” 

 

He cut her off by raising his hand. “Mione, there’s nothing you can do. You like to fix things, I know. What I need isn’t for you to tell me it’s going to be okay.” She bit her bottom lips. “I might need you to tell me from time to time that I’m being an arse. I think I need some time.” She exhaled heavily. 

 

“I’m so sorry.” 

 

“You don’t need to be. We can’t help who we fall in love with. I just needed to say it outloud that I have been here since I met you. And that I know it’s not a contest between Malfoy and I. He’s been good to you from what I see. If he’s ever not, I’ll kill him in his sleep.” 

 

“I wish I’d told you. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much now.” Her words were quiet. 

 

“Maybe, but I think I’m more mature about this than I would have been. It’s going to be okay, Hermione. I’m not going away, but being alone with you, I can’t do that. I love you, and I’m realizing far too late how lucky I was.” 

 

“Ron,” 

 

“I’m not trying to ask you to choose. I know that was a ridiculous idea, but I have to say it.” She gulped. “Malfoy’s lucky. It’s going to be hard in a few hours when I smell that bloody potion, and smell the shampoo you use, or the smell of the library. I love you, and I hope I’ll be able to say I don’t in the near future.” 

 

Hermione was silent as he stood from the couch, moving to stand in front of her. “I don’t know what to say.” She muttered sadly. “It’s all my fault and there’s nothing I can do.” 

 

“It’s not your fault. As if you could have made me not fall in love with you.” He paused at her subtle flinch of the word, as if he’d slapped her. “And,” Ron knelt in the floor beside her. “I’m not happy that it makes you upset, but I’m glad someone knows what I’m going through.” He leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead. 

 

“I’ll find a way for us to switch partners in Potions.” She told him, catching his wrist with her fingers. “It’s not fair to you.” 

 

“I have to face it sometime. Don’t worry about the bloody love potion.” Ron fluffed her hair, his voice incredibly somber as he walked towards the portrait of the Heads’ dorm. The door shut quietly behind him. 

 

In the silence of the room, she let her head fall and buried her face into her hands. It was clear Ron had stayed up all night, that he would not sleep at all before the day finally begun. Hermione realized that he had not come to the words he’d used on his own. 

 

It pained her to think of Ron and Harry sitting up past midnight in their dorm, teaming up to find the words to say to her. That Ron had spilled his feelings to Harry, who had been more on her side than anything else lately. 

 

It hit her like a load of bricks that in all of her own suffering, and her focus on Draco that she had let one of her closest friends suffer in silence. 

 

She’d known from the moment in the Chamber of Secrets and every moment thereafter, Ron would be the one to be hurt. She’d been foolish to think it wouldn’t break his heart. 

 

And so, she sat there until the sun rose. 

* * *

  
  


Draco didn’t ask her how it had gone immediately. He’d emerged from the room they had shared for the last week dressed in his robes, and with her uniform slung over his arm. “You’ll be late.” 

 

She didn’t bother to tell him she wouldn’t have minded skipping the class in it’s entirety if her stubborn pride would have let her. “Thank you.” she mumbled. Hermione stood, sliding the shorts down her legs and tossing them onto the couch. 

 

He sat on the table in front of the leather couch, watching her clumsy movements carefully. His eyes hardly left her face as she changed her knickers and pulled her skirt to her waist, turning to let him do the zipper. “Are you alright?” 

 

“Hardly.” Hermione grabbed the hem of her tank top, tearing it over her head and letting it fall to the floor. “Could you?” she asked, turning her back to him once more. Draco reached up, not needing to stand, and hooked the clasps of her bra for her. He pressed his lips against her spine, a gentle brushing of his lips on her skin. 

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Draco asked her. 

 

“No more than you want to hear it.” It was a shitty thing to say, but she snapped at him anyway while she buttoned her shirt. 

 

“If it’s bothering you, then yes I’d want to hear it if it makes you feel better.” Hermione kept her eyes on her own workings of her fingers as she heard his voice. It was soft, not demanding even though he wanted to coax the truth from her. 

 

“Ron told me he was sorry, but he also wanted to remind me he has been there for me. That on the awful night at Malfoy Manor, he begged Bellatrix to take him instead of me.” Draco moved from the table onto the couch, pulling her into his lap. “I said some things that I regret last night, that I mostly said to try and shock him into realizing you were not going away. He regretted his words to me, and to you.” 

 

“Weasley doesn’t owe me any sort of apology. If anything, I might owe him one.” Draco rubbed circles in her back, slow, soothing movement to try and ease the rising panic. 

 

“He was very clear that he needs time away from me. There is nothing I can do to fix this.” Her words were followed by a long silence, and the stilling of his fingertips against her skin. 

 

“He’s just walking away? Granger, I don’t think you understood,” 

 

Hermione spoke into the crook of his neck, where she had buried her face to hide the salty tears coming down her face. “Seeing me hurts him, eats him alive, I think. Ron told me he was in love with me, and that you were lucky. After hearing him tell me how he’s going to smell my shampoo and the Hogwarts library this morning, I’m just not sure I can face him.” 

 

Draco’s grip had tightened on her as he pulled her the tiniest bit closer. He didn’t say a word; she wasn’t sure he was even breathing until she put her hand on the rise and fall of his chest. “There’s nothing I can say to make this better for you.” Draco’s chest rumbled as he spoke to her, and she clenched her fingers in his robe. 

 

“If you would, just, if you would not respond to any arguments he attempts to start.” Hermione began, but he cut her off. 

 

“Done.” Her mouth snapped shut at his words as she stared at him. “If it were the other way around, and it was me with the broken heart, I would be worse than he is. I’d probably have already tried to send him somewhere he’d never be found.” 

 

Hermione shook her head. “That’s a lie. You’d never be able to hurt me, even if I weren’t with you. You’re capable of many things, Draco Malfoy, but hurting me isn’t one of them.” He didn’t reply as she reached down to button the rest of her shirt. 

* * *

  
  


She noticed that Draco broke off from her sooner than normal, moments before Ron would have seen their hands linked together, and she could feel her heart beating faster. Draco nodded to her, his eyes on her slim figure as she made her way to the table in Potions. 

 

Ron didn’t let go of the breath he was clearly holding as she sat down. Hermione kept her eyes forward, towards the front of the room where a large cauldron sat on a desk. Professor Slughorn had rearranged the classroom to make their potion the center of the stage, if you would. Hermione tapped her foot against the flooring, telling herself there was nothing she could do as it was inevitable. 

 

In a comedic relief, she could laugh over the fact Harry had been paired off with Lavender since Hermione had stolen her seat days earlier. A small tidbit Harry was still angry over, as he’d explained Lavender Brown was downright awful in Potions. 

 

She wondered what Harry would smell as well, if he would still smell Ginny. Hermione doubted he’d talk about it, either way. He’d been quiet since their split, only stopping to tell her that yes, he was okay, and as soon as he wasn’t she’d be the first to know. 

 

Hermione, deny it as she would, couldn’t pay attention as Professor Slughorn asked students to smell the potion, and to describe what they smelled. 

 

The easy attributes, such as a library, were common. She heard a few boys joke in the class that it must be a Ravenclaw. 

 

Or as Harry sadly listed, “Wind.” as one of his, her heart cracked a bit as she knew it was still Ginny Weasley for him. 

 

It was rubbish for a teacher to ask students to do this, especially when he knew there was a conflict in this class. She propped her head up with her hand under her chin. 

 

“Mr. Weasley.” The sound of his chair screeching against the tile covered the sound of her ridiculous gulp. Her eyes were wide as he made his way to the cauldron, Harry shuffling out of his way. 

 

Draco’s eyes had already found hers and she noticed his fist was clenched in his lap. 

 

Hermione tore her eyes away once more, watching Ron lean forward to smell the Amortentia. And as his eyes settled on hers, she realized her heart could break even more than already had before. “Vanilla, the smell of old books, and hot chocolate.” She hadn’t forgotten the nights they’d stayed up in the Gryffindor common room, drinking hot chocolate in front of the fire. She was just surprised he remembered. 

 

Professor Slughorn called her forward, and her legs felt like lead as she walked towards the front of the classroom. Hermione leaned forward, her curls nearly dipping into the cauldron. She wasn’t sure what to make fo the fact that she wasn’t the least bit scared of what she would smell. “Well, Miss Granger?” 

 

Her eyes settled on Draco, who looked like he’d breathed out in relief. She paused, looking his way and wondering what that had been about. “Firewhiskey, cologne, and parchment.” Ron slid further away from her, as Theo and Draco were called forward. 

 

Hermione couldn’t drag her eyes away from the floor as Draco spoke quietly. “Vanilla, Firewhisky, and a library.” Her hand found his, a small gesture between their robes that no one could have seen. 

 

She wanted nothing more than to leave the classroom, say she wasn’t feeling well, but it was Draco that kept her anchored. His lips were pressed into a hard line; he didn’t look down at her, but he did loosen his hold, brushing his thumb against her hand. 

 

Theo’s answer threw her for a loop. “I refuse to answer.” 

 

She whipped her head to look up at the man beside her, one eyebrow arched, mouthing, “Who?” 

 

Draco shook his head, and bent down to whisper in her ear. “He hasn’t told me anything, even if there is a girl.” 

 

Hermione bit her bottom lip, curious. It was the way Theo’s jaw clenched that worried her. “There is,” she muttered. “He wouldn’t be so defensive if there wasn’t. Theo knows exactly who it is too by the look on his face.” 

 

Draco only shrugged. “He’ll tell you when he’s ready then.” 

* * *

  
  


Hermione’s classes passed quickly after that. She didn’t quite remember every lecture, something she was ashamed to say. Her personal problems had never impacted her studies, but it was all she could do to get Ron’s words out of her head, or the tiny instance in Potions that Draco was afraid she wouldn’t smell him. 

It was Defense Against the Dark Arts that was the worst part of her day, everyday. Ginny sat beside her quietly, but Hermione could never control herself. She always found herself stealing glances at where Goyle had once sat. 

 

Their classmates had noticed immediately of course. How could they not? In the middle of lectures Hermione found the need to look, to know he wasn’t reanimated, and it was a crazy thought. She would never admit her ridiculous fears, anxiety as Muggles called it. 

 

After the end of classes, Hermione gathered her books, and set off on her own to a spot down by the lake that she liked to call her own. 

 

At the end of fifth year, Theo had brought her down here while Harry and Ron were angry with her. He told her that sometimes it was a good spot, hardly anyone ever came down here, and the water could be nice to look at occasionally. 

 

She set her bag on the ground, pulling her robes closer around her frame. It was chilly outside, the charms she’d cast beneath her stockings to keep her legs warm weren’t enough. No matter, she’d grin and bare it. She needed to be alone to even attempt practicing. 

 

Hermione’s breathing was shallow as she pulled her wand from her robes, the negative voice in the back of her head whispering maybe it was a fool’s errand. Clearly she was depressed, so how did she expect to produce a happy memory? 

 

Or even one strong enough to cast a corporeal Patronus Charm? 

 

But she ignored the doubt that had seeped into her. After everything else she’d done, shouldn’t she be able to do this? 

* * *

  
  


Draco stayed back from her, watching her from a rock. She’d been down here for close to an hour, moving her wand calmly, precisely at first. 

 

Until the eleventh time she couldn’t produce anything. He wasn’t close enough to hear her, but could see her mumbling under her breath, and her wand movements growing worse in her fit of anger. 

 

Whether his presence would make the situation worse he wasn’t sure, but he slid off of the rock anyways. Draco had already changed after Quidditch practice, and left his hands in his pockets. “Granger.” he called out. 

 

She cursed as she jumped. “You were watching me?” He nodded, coming to stand beside her. “I can’t cast the fucking charm.” 

  
  


“Not yet.” 

 

She opened and closed her mouth while she attempted to reply to him. “It feels like I won’t be able to ever again.” 

 

“If I can cast a Patronus Charm, then so can you. It’s okay if it takes a while.” She was silent. “I know it didn’t take much the first time, but you’re different now. You can’t fault yourself for that.” Hermione didn’t say anything, but she slipped her wand back inside of her robes. 

 

“Would you cast the charm?” Hermione asked quietly. 

 

“Right now?” His eyes widened. “I don’t really,” 

 

“I wanted to see it when Skeeter dropped that bombshell on me, but it was bad timing.” 

 

“It’s just a lion, you know what they look like.” His voice was shaky. 

 

“Remind me. Momentary lapse in memory, I’m afraid.” She laughed as he glared at her. “Please?” 

 

He huffed, drawing his wand. “Come here.” Draco wrapped his left arm around her waist, pulling her in front of him. “If you look at me, I’ll fuck it up. Keep your eyes on the lake.” His arm didn’t part from holding her around her waist, locking her back to his chest. “Expecto Patronum.” 

 

The lion shot out from his wand, running along the shore line they were only feet away from. Hermione gasped, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. “Oh, my God.” she whispered as it darted towards them. She reached her hand out as if she could touch it, moments before it vanished in front of them. 

 

She turned against him, still in the crook of his arm. Tears welled up in her eyes. “Are you crying?” Draco’s hold on her waist fell as he cradled her face between his hands.

 

“They’re happy tears.” she answered. “Thank you.” He nodded, his features softened as she slipped her arms around his waist and buried her face in his chest while sniffling. 

 

“I’m sorry your friend is hurting.” Draco murmured. “And that I came into your life and turned everything upside down.” A small laugh escaped her. 

 

“Despite how guilty I feel for hurting Ron, I don’t feel guilty for anything I’ve experienced with you.” 

 

Draco kissed the top of her head, maneuvering them to where he was on the ground with her in his lap. “If you need to let it out, just let it out. You can’t compartmentalize forever, Granger.” 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In either the next chapter or the one after, the story will most likely skip to Christmas. Things with Lucius Malfoy are hardly over, despite me not knowing where the hell I'm taking that. Things between Draco and Hermione have a long way to go in my opinion. They're both still so stubborn in how they think things should be handled. I
> 
> I feel like I should explain something. My writing of Ron Weasley to be exact. If there's one thing I dislike most of how I wrote this, it's my portrayal of him. So, I do think he would be hurt by the truth of Draco and Hermione. And I do think he would lash out, but he's also the person who begged Bellatrix to take him, so I do think he'd try to do right by her. 
> 
> Even if that happened after alcohol clouded his judgement. So, I'm kind of wary of posting this because I'm worried it's going to drive readers away because I was back and forth with Ron, which I was. 
> 
> But let me know if you liked it anyways. :)


	24. Authors Note.

**I swear I don't normally do this, and I probably never will again. I'm certain there are people who don't follow my tumblr that might still be reading this. As you know it hasn't been updated since February. I'm sorry. It was never my intention to abandon it, but I don't want to write it as it is now. The bad news is that I'm probably going to pull this version down after the new year. I think my writing has evolved for the better since this last popped into my head, and it could be made better.**

**So that's what I'm going to do. I'm not sure when I'll post a revised version. I have several projects I'm sitting on, but it wouldn't have felt right to pull it without letting you know. I'm not expecting any reviews on this note, but if you have any ideas, or questions, feel free to PM me.**

**Thank you for being here from the start from the very bottom of my heart.**

**Mrs. Ren.**


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